Melody of a Memory
by LeikaLai
Summary: AU, ShiShi. Satoshi has been Master for eight years without fail and feels he has nothing left to accomplish with his life. However, when an old friend requires his reluctant help, Satoshi's life changes and nearly-forgotten memories start to re-emerge.
1. Chapter One

Author's Note: This story was originally posted over the interval of July 2005 up to October 2007. I took the original posting down in February 2008 for a drastically needed facelift. Although anyone who remembers the first version (unlikely) of this fanfiction will find that most plotlines and characters appear the same, changes have been made in order to appease the fanfic's creator.

Despite any changes I am making, there are still no guarantees that I will continue to fix this or update it; my drive to do so is fickle at best. Anyone unfamiliar with this story should be reminded that it will contain _slash_. Prospective readers who do not appreciate slash may feel free to exit their browser now. The first chapter remains Blah Blah Introduction; trust me when I say the other character's details will become relevant eventually. Anyone unfamiliar with my style should know I am a fan of writing long chapters. Long. You have been forewarned.

I tried to make the characters more mature and realistic than they are portrayed in the television show. I wanted to adhere to the show's plotline as much as possible, but I haven't seen anything after the Jouto League episodes and thusly have no idea what monsters Satoshi owns for the last two leagues (among other details). As a result, this story is _very _AU. Japanese names are used as much as possible, mostly because I like them and not for any inherent property in the names. In my story, a person must be twelve years old before attempting to be a trainer (I don't recall what the television show states, but I'm pretty sure it was younger than twelve). Also, all ages are approximate and are currently as follows: Satoshi is twenty-five years old, Shigeru and Kasumi are both twenty-seven, Takeshi twenty-eight, Haruka twenty-two, Masato seventeen, and so on.

Enough of my rambling already; so it goes.

Disclaimer: I do not own Pokemon or its characters. The story is a work of fiction and in no way shall money be made from this endeavor. Unauthorized reproduction or copying of this fiction is not allowed (aka do not copy/post/save to your hard drive or elsewhere!)

Melody of a Memory  
By Leika Lai

Chapter One - Prologue

Eight years have passed since I gained the title of Master, and it has taken almost as long for all purpose to leave my life.

The final competition at the Houen stadium. The ruthless drone of fans cheering in the crowd. The dust that clung to the air and filled my lungs as I waited, breath clenched, to see which of our monster's had fallen. If I close my eyes, I can almost see and feel it all over again.

Initially, everything felt as I had always dreamed it would. I had gained worldwide recognition overnight, and in rapid succession I had acquired legions of female fans who swore their 'undying allegiance' to me alone. Being a small-town boy of seventeen years, this was an unexpected circumstance, not to mention, well, let's just say an exciting side effect of achieving my dream. I had all I ever wanted as a trainer: my monsters were world contenders, and my friends couldn't be more supportive of my success. Companies around Jouto, Kanto and Houen were competing for me to be their spokesperson in commercials and advertisements. I felt like my life was filled with opportunities, as if I was somewhere close to perfection.

That feeling of completion, however, faded as routine took its place in my mind. Being a master means that you seldom receive any challenges for battles, for it is few and far between that you will find a person with the qualifications to invoke such a match. For the first few years I spent a lot of my time in the wilderness, off alone in search of new and rare monsters that had yet been found. I never succeeded in these trips, but it helped fill the void in my life that seemed to be expanding and engulfing more of myself. I grew bored of these journeys, and I decided to quit the nomadic life and settle down. I rented homes in Yamabuki and Hiwada City, but ended up purchasing a house in Tokusane City less than a month ago, and I currently reside there.

I always thought being Master would be more fun than this.

Soon after I won the title, I had received a video phone call from Kasumi. We had spoken infrequently since I embarked in the Houen Region without her, so the call was an unexpected yet pleasant surprise. She poured praise into the receiver, claiming she knew I had it in me all along to become Master, and was only slightly put off when I chidingly reminded her that it was she who always said I would never amount to anything.

"Yes, well…you knew I was kidding when I said that, didn't you, Satoshi?" Kasumi questioned, her tone laced with apprehension. Her fiery hair was longer than when I last saw her, and she roughly pushed the crimson curls over her shoulder as they brushed onto her face.

"Of course!" I responded good-naturedly, smiling as I replied, "I figured you meant it in the nicest way."

Kasumi laughed at this, her voice whimsical and light. "You needed the constant pushing and haranguing, Satoshi! You would never be where you are now if I hadn't berated you every step of the way." She coughed, and I watched as she gracefully covered her mouth in the video screen. It was a feminine gesture that I had rarely seen in Kasumi in all our years together. I was concerned whether she was unwell.

"Are you ill, Kasumi? That sounds like a nasty cough…"

She waved her hand impatiently, a common gesture for the hotheaded Kasumi I knew. "Just a cold, its nothing too serious. Anyways, I just thought I should send you well wishes now that you're the Master trainer. You better make sure you don't lose that title too early in your reign; God knows Shigeru would never let you live it down."

I was surprised that she mentioned Shigeru, and I hoped this didn't register on my face. I recovered fumblingly, sending her away with a polite farewell as she disconnected the video screen on her end of the call.

As I look back on that conversation eight years later, I still wonder why on earth she had spoken of Shigeru. I had all but put him out of my mind, having seen the last of him at the Silver Conference in Jouto. I remember meeting him one night at the shore of the local lake, Shigeru staring up at the stars while I watched him from afar. He looked so solemn and pensive; I couldn't bring myself to disrupt him with my childish bantering. I had just turned fifteen at the time of the conference; old enough to think I knew everything, yet young enough to still know nothing.

Shigeru, however, had caught sight of me along the edge of the glassy lake and called for me to join him. I did as requested, and we discussed such matters as destiny; it was a pleasant conversation that resembled the ones we had o so long ago.

Back in Masara, we always acted opposite from one another; it was surprising that we had even become friends with all these differences between us. While I would spend my free time playing with my monsters and battling friends, Shigeru was off alone somewhere nearby, probably on one of the grassy nodes that filled the countryside of Masara Town. He would just sit thinking and observing the world, and I felt left out of his life when he did this; I would long to join him while he was in one of these moods. Sometimes he would allow me to meet with him, sometimes he wouldn't.

Why am I looking back on these memories? They happened ages ago; long before he and I had bitterly parted ways before heading out to become trainers. These were times when Shigeru and I were close friends, inseparable during all our days. We did everything together. I would climb the tallest tree I could find while Shigeru would yell at me from below, anxious that I would fall and hurt myself. We snuck out of our houses late at night to watch the nocturnal pokemon come alive on his grandfather's ranch, even though we were both terrified about being alone in the dark beneath the chilling full moon. Shigeru would sometimes bring me a food treat his sister Nanami had made for us to share, and we would eat it in the lush green fields just beyond my backyard, simply enjoying one another's company. I felt like I could share anything with Shigeru and he would still accept me, as if it were impossible for me to disappoint him. I always felt a strong correlation with him, even at such a young age.

Yet our friendship somehow turned sour, and Shigeru violently shoved me out of his life without a reason to explain it. Now, when I think of Shigeru, I can't help but remember the years of torment and verbal abuse I suffered at his hands. Despite our agreement to 'bury the hatchet' at Jouto's Silver Conference, I can't forgive him for betraying me so easily and without warning. I still don't understand why he acted the way he did, and I don't think I ever will; Shigeru has been decidedly silent on the issue whenever I've brought it up to him.

When had I become so pensive? I move from my current location, slouched along a comfortable old sofa in my living room, and I glance out the window facing the street. Roughly stirring the liquid in my glass, I pause before taking a deep swill of its contents.

I bought this home in Tokusane City as a place to escape my tedious responsibilities as Master. The house is plain, modern and small, yet I enjoy it surprisingly much. Upstairs there are two large bedrooms, a small storage room, linen closet, and a bathroom. The guest bedroom is filled with unopened boxes of that I have yet to pilfer through. The main floor consists of a moderate kitchen/dining room combination that fills with light in the early morning sun; a work room that houses my new computer and other intriguing materials I have yet to look at; the aforementioned living room with said comfortable old sofa. The basement contains a washer and dryer, as well as a desk, more boxes, and a musty cot, but I have plans of converting it to a recreation room. We'll see if I actually complete this reverie.

As I stare out the window, I began to think about my companions that I had met along my journey, and what had become of them once we had parted ways. It was a nostalgic and pointless exercise, but it fit my current pensive mood.

My monsters, including my cherished Pikachuu, were all staying at Ookido-Hakase's ranch in Masara Town. Originally I had she and my other monsters living with me in Tokusane, but I soon discovered how unfair it was to keep them cooped up inside all day long, only having the small backyard to run about in. I had discussed with my mother, Hanako, over the phone as to what should be done to compensate for this lack of space. She felt the only realistic alternative I could follow, bar moving once again, was to return them to Ookido-Hakase's observation ranch.

It was with a heavy heart that I sent my monsters to Ookido-Hakase's, especially when it came Pikachuu's time to go; he and I had been together from the start of our journey, and I was close to tears the day he left.

Kasumi, I knew, had left much earlier in order to manage her family's gym at Hanada City. Her sisters had completed their worldwide traveling two months before the Houen Cup was being held, but by then Kasumi felt separated from me and my new travel companions, especially Haruka. Kasumi kindly declined my offer to join us on one last journey. She said she had to help her sisters return to the rhythm being gym leaders again; it was a weak excuse, but it kept Kasumi from having to voice the obvious pain of seeing Haruka so close to me. I felt bad for her, but there was nothing I could do.

Today, Kasumi still runs her family's gym alongside her siblings. Occasionally I had travelled to Hanada to see the spectacular shows the four sisters put on, and every time I was impressed by Kasumi's skill. I don't think even she realized how much she enjoys theatre and the arts, and if you asked her I would assume she'd deny her pleasure. On one of the trips I made to visit her, I met Kasumi's fiancé (now husband). I was shocked to hear Kasumi was engaged, but pleased to see her in such a blissful state. She said she met her now-husband outside of Researcher Masaki's estate, where she often went to gaze along the bridge and the shimmering waters below. He finally proposed at the same spot six months after their first meeting. He was a trainer as well, but had offered to give up his journey in order to help Kasumi run the gym with her family. They have been married three years, and as far as I recall, Kasumi is now expecting a child in four months. I've never seen Kasumi more pleased.

Takeshi left for his hometown of Nibi after I had won the Houen Cup. He knew that my upcoming journey for the title Master was one that could be only taken alone, so he had parted ways with me, wishing me the best of luck for my final journey. Takeshi returned to his siblings and parents, and continued restoration of his family gym. His acquired water monsters helped him bond with his new mother startlingly well, and currently no bitter waters run between Takeshi and her. There isn't much more I know of concerning Takeshi; we kept in contact with phone calls, but they have grown few and distanced apart. I guess we both have our lives to blame for that, but it shouldn't be an excuse. It is sad when so old of friends fall apart from one another.

Haruka and her brother Masato traveled back to Touka City, also wishing me luck in becoming Master. I was especially sad to see Haruka go; we had grown extremely close in our times together in Houen, and it tore my heart to see such a sweet person walk out of my life. Haruka must have felt the same way, because she lingered with me after the Houen Cup was completed, as if she couldn't bear to part ways so quickly. When the time finally arrived, I held Haruka closely, not wanting to let her go, and she kissed me sweetly on the mouth before saying goodbye. She said she refused for us to fall out of contact with one another, and so she arranged three days out of every year – about once every four months – when we would meet again, come hell or high water. We followed this agreement faithfully, and have yet to miss a date when we were meant to see each another. Sometimes I would travel to her home; sometimes she would come to see me. Haruka has plans to build a contest centre in Touka City, and so far she has managed to follow through. Her parents have generously funded the expansive project, and construction should complete within the next eight months. As far as I know, Masato went on to study researching to become like the famous Ookido-Hakase, and he was recently accepted into Kobane University in Jouto.

Lastly, Shigeru. I tried stubbornly ignoring his behavior, but I still knew that Shigeru had been well on his way to becoming a researcher like his grandfather. There have been several news articles concerning him in the newspapers, likely due to his grandfather's fame and influence. The world was waiting to see if Shigeru could match the brilliance of his grandfather. The articles over the years were brief and typically uninteresting: they said he had been taking classes at the university in Tokusane; that he had completed classes in Tokusane; that he had been accepted as a researcher at one of the prestigious facilities in the area.

He had become engaged to a woman I had never met before, and they had wed just over five years ago. The papers said she was a daughter of a famous researcher from Nibi City, and that the two were an idyllic match. The wedding had been small and informal, which surprised me; Shigeru was always the type to have the biggest and best of all things, and a discreet wedding didn't seem to fit with his style. Either way, I hadn't been invited, and I supposed I hadn't really expected to be either. We had revived our friendship and that was enough for the two of us. I had waited until six months after their marriage to finally call and congratulate Shigeru; I think it took me that long to work up the courage to speak to him again. Shigeru had looked surprisingly happy when we spoke, and I assumed he was still in nuptial bliss.

I sigh and think no more of my acquaintances. Glancing at the wall clock, I could see it was well past two in the morning. Another late night was not what I needed, but I don't have much to do tomorrow that little sleep would hinder.

I've been plagued with insomnia since moving in, and I have found no relief whatsoever from it. I constantly feel like I'm in a daze, not awake but not really sleeping either, just treading a thin boundary between the two states. I walk into my kitchen/dining room, bathed in the cold moonlight cutting through the glass patio doors, and I place my glass in the sink for washing later. Yawning deeply into my hand, I slowly make the trek upstairs, up to my empty bedroom, all alone.

-0-0-0-0-

I am a review monger. The first chapter is dull compared to the rest, I know, but let me know who is reading this. Or just drop a review to say whether I should bother with this or not. I live for feedback, so feed me. Nom Nom.


	2. Chapter Two

Author's Note: For those of you at home keeping score, note that alterations to the original story's content begins… now. As per usual, I am flying without a beta and so any mistakes in chapter contents are my own. Please be graceful when describing them :)

Disclaimer: I do not own Pokemon or its characters. The story is a work of fiction and in no way shall money be made from this endeavor. Unauthorized reproduction or copying of this fiction is not allowed (aka do not copy/post/save to your hard drive or elsewhere).

Melody of a Memory

By Leika Lai

Chapter Two

The next morning, I awake to the sound of pouring rain. Mumbling into the soft fabric of my pillow, I recall how the weatherman had originally promised a bout of sunny days for the next week. The rain is not encouraging and I feel little reason to start the day. Groggily I sweep my feet over the edge of my double bed, waking up a little with the cold contact they make as they brush the chilly wood floor. I gingerly toe around for slippers I can slide on, but I am unable to find any.

The rain outside makes everything look dreary and grey, a highly unappealing sight. I walk downstairs in my faded housecoat, stepping out my front door in order to collect the mail. I find a few fan letters in the mailbox, alongside of the daily newspaper and a couple bills that I had to pay soon. I hurry back inside, running my hand through my rain-dampened locks in hope of them drying in a semi-stable position. I put on a pot of coffee and sit down at the dining table, perusing through the mail as I wait for it to perk.

The fan letters were typical; young admirers who thought I was the greatest thing since sliced bread. I feel a pang of guilt for exceeding their expectations so greatly, for I know that there is no way I could be all that they thought I was. The bills I ignore completely, knowing full well what was in store from them, and so I turn my attention towards the newspaper.

The headlines on the first page cried out in warning of a murder that had occurred late last night. I skim through the article disinterestedly, finding that it had occurred at a bar as a result of two men in a drunken brawl. Flipping through the pages, I wait for something to catch my eye and require me to read it, but I found nothing until the third last page of the first section. The article was minute and tritely written, but it surprised me with its content.

It concerned Shigeru and his wife, Julia. It was a shock to see his name in print; I hadn't thought about him yet today. Scanning the gossip column, I learn that Shigeru's wife is seeking a divorce from her famous husband, although her motives are not discussed. I search through to the last paragraph, hoping to see an indication that the article continued onto a second page, but there was nothing.

I pause, holding the paper in slackened fingers, trying to digest what must have happened to what I had perceived to be a happily wed couple. Rereading the column more carefully, I learn that she and Shigeru were heading to court in order to divvy up ownership of their belongings, the primary focus being on their stone mansion on the western edge of Tokusane and who would gain custody of their two four-year old daughters.

This stunned me yet again; I never knew Shigeru had daughters… Children have always had an affinity with Shigeru. It's hard to believe, but his cool and smug persona disappeared once he came into contact with kids, and he becomes the sort of father-figure person you'd expect to see in a nineteen-fifty's television series. I only saw this side of him once, when I visited his home after the Seikei League (I was dropping off a care package from my mother to his sister).

Shigeru, like I, had stopped at home before continuing on his next journey; I was surprised to see him inside, caring for his sister's child. Nanami was seven years older than Shigeru, and she had had her first child with her husband, Joshua, when Shigeru was about sixteen and I was fourteen. Shigeru watched over his nephew with such adoration it startled me, for we were still on unfriendly terms with one another and I had come to regard him as something akin to a demon.

The kettle of coffee water catches me by surprise, its screeching whistle breaking me from my reverie. I scold myself for again focusing on the past instead of my present; after all, I was the reigning Master and no one had challenged my title in over eight years! I should be happy with what I've achieved, and yet it feels so empty and incomplete. I can't describe what it is that I'm missing, and my heart aches because of it.

I pour myself a cup of coffee, cringing as I scald my tongue on the boiling water, but still I eagerly gulp the warm fluid down. Its warmth helps me feel a bit better about the miserable weather, and I decide to head to downtown Tokusane in order to complete some unnecessary shopping.

----------

I spend the day examining the multitude of stores in Tokusane City. Growing up in Masara Town, I had little choice in where to purchase provisions or clothing, seeing how the entire town had a single grocery store and one garments centre. Now in such a large city, coupled with the vast amount of spare time I have, I can spend my time enjoying the items for sale. I admit, I primarily window shop when it comes to clothes or, well… anything not trainer-related, but today I managed to pick up some sweaters and an extra throw for the chill that had appeared since the start of the rain.

I stay in the food court for supper, picking disinterestedly at the fast-food burger in front of me before reluctantly deciding to go home. It was pouring when I had reached the mall, but as I head out of the centre now, the rain has subsided to a slight drizzle. I call a taxi and prepare myself for the quiet ride home.

By the time we manage through the heavy traffic and poor visibility (the rain had unfortunately picked up again) it is half past nine at night. I walk into my empty kitchen and set my parcels upon the table, leaving trails of dripping water behind me. I feel astounded as to where the time went. It seems like every day is gobbled up so quickly, and that I do such meaningless things with my time. I feel guilty as I look as the two measly bags on the table, thinking how it took me the majority of the day in order to pick them up.

Re-warming the unused kettle water for tea, I take off my coat and set it on a chair to dry. I tousle my hair into a messy-but-not-too-messy mop on my head, shaking off excess moisture as I do so. As I finish I sit down at the table and sigh, waiting for the pot to boil. Subconsciously I begin preparing myself for another quiet, endless night.

The ringing of the telephone sends a shock through my spine; I had been daydreaming and the sound of the seldom-used device caught my by surprise. I stare at the wall where the vidphone resides, dully trying to recall how to use the damned thing as I sit before the glassy screen and pick up the receiver.

"Good evening, sweetie. I hope I didn't wake you." It's my mother, Hanako, lightly smiling at the opposite end of the vidphone.

"G'evening to you too," I reply dumbly; it feels like ages since I've spoken to another person, let alone my mother. "I'm still awake, no worries. What's up?"

I wait for my mother to begin her usual bright banter, but it doesn't come. Hanako is such an upbeat optimist and I am hoping some off her attitude would rub off on me now. Looking at her more closely, however, I realize the smile I'd seen her sport earlier is tight and almost forced.

Worry blossoms in the pit of my stomach. "What's wrong, Mum? You look tired."

Hanako sighs and briefly glances at her lap. I note that she is tracing idle lines on the desk in front of the vidphone. "Oh nothing, it's just…. Tonight, I was over at Ookido-Hakase's for supper and, well…."

I waited calmly for her to continue, trying my best to not interrupt. I knew that she went over to Ookido-Hakase's research ranch often.

"We got to speaking about how you and Shigeru are doing, what you've been up to, and… it seems like Shigeru's been having a rough go of it."

"His divorce?" I ask, cutting to the chase.

My mother nods. She bites her lip, glancing down at her lap, and I feel another pang of worry. Not because of Shigeru, but because of how anxious my mother appears just now.

"Do you think," Hanako begins slowly, looking at me forthright. "That is, would it be alright if he stayed with you for a little while? Just while he sorts out this mess and…." She trails off when she spots the look on my face.

I am unable to respond to her right away. Hanako waits several beats, then asks, "Are you okay, dear? You got really quiet all of a sudden."

I thickly swallow, steadying my thoughts as I formulate a response. Dumbly I say, "Why me, though? Why do I have to put up with him?"

"He's your friend, dear," Hanako replies in a light tone that is truer to her typical mannerisms. "He would do the same for you. Besides, Ookido-Hakase has already discussed the idea with Shigeru, and he didn't seem nearly as opposed to the idea as you are right–"

"Shigeru talked with him about it?" I blurt, surprised. "Why would Shigeru be okay with staying here? Doesn't he have other friends, colleagues to help him? He could stay at a hotel instead."

"He's your friend," she repeats calmly, the anxiety I had observed earlier now completely erased. More quietly than before, Hanako adds, "and he doesn't have anywhere else to go. I think he needs an old companion to help him through all this."

I clam up, leaning back in my chair and staring mutely at the vidphone. Why oh why does he have to stay here? I mean, I realize it's not very appealing to stay in a hotel for an extended period of time, but Shigeru could afford it, I reason. Besides, we haven't spoken in ages and aren't yet precisely on good terms. I doubt I could be a very useful friend to him….

I start to reply, but the look on my mother's face makes me change my response. "…When does he want to come over?" I say reluctantly.

My mother smiles at me, genuinely. "As soon as possible. Tomorrow, even, provided you are ready for him."

"…Okay. Tell Shigeru…it's okay. He can stay here if he wants to. I'll make up the cot downstairs."

"Thank you, sweetheart. I'll get Ookido-Hakase to pass along your address to Shigeru. He'll probably be over sometime in the next few days." I must look pretty pouty because Hanako adds solemnly, "You know that Shigeru is very grateful towards you. And the company would do you some good as well."

I roll my eyes and exchange goodnight farewells with her. "Uh huh. Sure."

---------------

After I had spoken to my mother, I had gone to bed immediately and spent the night in a fitful, tense slumber. I had dreams about my childhood, about my days as a trainer. In every dream, I felt the ridicule that Shigeru had pressed upon me in his worst days, pre-reconciliation at Jouto's conference. When I finally awake, sweaty and muscles spasming, I feel no more rested than I had the night before. Damn this insomnia.

I spend the rest of the next day in a silent stupor, wandering around the house in an undirected manner. My lack of sleep made be grumpy and irritable, but thankfully no one else was around to suffer me through this mood. I recall that Shigeru might even be over tonight, so I decide to tidy the place a bit and ready the downstairs bed for him to stay.

As I flick on the overhead light and slouch down the stairs, I realize just how dingy the basement is; it is in dire need of some dusting. Returning briefly upstairs, I pick up some new sheets for the twin-sized cot and a damp cloth to wipe down the hard surfaces (desk, cot frame) covered in dust. I make a haphazard job of it, mostly because there is too much junk down there; it would take me a couple days, minimum, to do a decent job of cleaning.

By time nine o'clock rolls around, I am wondering whether or not Shigeru was actually coming over tonight. Hanako said he wanted to be here sooner rather than later, and so I had spent the day mentally preparing myself for reuniting with my rival. The possibility of him not actually showing up and that I would have to mentally prep myself again tomorrow, it physically drained me.

However, while I am pondering this prospect in the living room, a quick rap on my front door startles me back into reality. Compulsively I remember a time when, early on in my title as Master, a bizarre fan girl had arrived at my house in Yamabuki late at night and had pleaded to come inside and 'be with me'. The event had shaken me badly, for I didn't know how she came across the knowledge of where I was secretly living.

Despite the fact that I knew who was at the door, I still hesitantly approach it, feeling hyperaware of the sound of the rain and thunder outside. I had chills like those you feel while watching a horror film, and I try to coerce myself into a state calmness. Resting my hot palm on the cool metal of the doorknob, I twist it nervously and open the door.

My breath is torn from me as I look at the person on the other side of the door. "Shigeru," I exhale, my heart still beating quickly. I had forgotten what he looks like. That or his appearance is much more haggard than I last recalled. His face is handsome and casual except for, I note, the dark lines beneath his eyes and the pinched look his mouth has.

"Hello, Satoshi," he replies, attempting at a wry smile that is not entirely convincing. Shigeru had his coat hood up in order to protect himself from the rain, but a few tendrils of his brown hair fell damply into his eyes. He brushed these away with a careless hand, and I saw in his other arm he carried a grey satchel that resembled a luggage carry-on. Uncertainly he asks, "Grandpa said you'd put up with me here. May I come in?"

I look a moment at the cloudy sky and pools of water on the ground before realizing he must be soaking wet. "Oh!" I gasp, recognition hitting me. "Of course you can come in," I gesture for him to enter.

Shigeru nods and steps forward, shaking rainwater off his coat as I shut the door behind him. He slouches into the entryway, staring at the ground and busying himself with taking off his shoes. He avoids eye contact with me as he places his shoes onto the register to dry, and he shrugs off his coat now that it is free of excess water. My heart still beats quicker than normal and I feel extra nervous and flightier than usual.

Shigeru is silent, so I decide to break the quiet by voicing the fear I had felt so recently. "I thought you were a lunatic fan girl," I say sheepishly.

Shigeru attempts to smile but falters partway through it. I fleetingly sense what he's feeling, but the emotion passes before I can mentally register it. Shigeru clears his throat and impersonally asks, "Is there somewhere I can put this? You don't have a hanger in the closet." He points to the soaked coat relaxing in the crook of his arm, not looking me in the face.

"What – oh, sorry. I just moved in and, well, coat hangers weren't exactly on my list of necessary items," I say half-jokingly, hoping against all hope that it would help cut the uncomfortable silence in the room. "Just put it over one of the chairs in the dining room; it's just straight ahead and to your left." Shigeru nods silently again, remaining impassive to my light manner, and heads off in the direction I gave him. I breathe a sigh of relief as he disappears around the corner into the kitchen.

What was so wrong with him? Despite all appearances, Shigeru seemed nothing like the person I'd spoken to almost five years ago. This Shigeru was quiet, tense, and…. With a shiver, I realize what had me so off-put with him. He was treating me with the same indifference I'd felt all those years ago, back when we were both trainers and I was worth less than a bag of dirt to Shigeru. That indifference that had always shook me to the core; Shigeru may have teased me, arrogantly described how much better a trainer he was than I, but after it all…it still felt like the second he left my presence, I stopped existing to him.

An involuntary shudder crawls up my spine. To counteract the nostalgic deja-vu I feel, I tromp to the kitchen, trying to be proactive and nip Shigeru's rude behavior in the bud. However, as soon as I walk into the room, I'm surprised to see him sitting at the dining table with his back to me, slouched over it with his face in his hands.

Shigeru breathes out unevenly, a breath that is meant to be calming and soothing for the person issuing it. He doesn't seem like he knows I'm watching him, because he doesn't look up as I enter the room. I lose my anger at the sight of him, although I am far from relieved myself. It just doesn't seem right to ream on him in his current state.

"Shigeru, are you all right?" I enquire solicitously, not wanting to pry but also curious to know.

Shigeru looks up in my direction, my words catching him unawares. He recovers from this quickly, though, and he regains an expression of masked unfeeling on his face. "I'm fine, Satoshi. I just…" he mumbles, staring at his hands. The vulnerability he had been showing moments before is all but erased from his features, replaced instead by a cold indifference. "It doesn't matter, just forget it."

I frown, biting my inner cheek to keep from sharply retaliating. "Fine. I will." Several minutes pass before I dare attempt conversation again.

"So," I begin slowly, "where do you work, Shigeru?" A nice, neutral topic might stop him from ignoring my presence.

But Shigeru never replies; he remains in the same stoic position, as if he couldn't hear me. I nervously swallow and drop my head, looking to the ground as if it could provide some guidance for this situation.

We remain there in the kitchen in stalemate, neither one of us talking to the other. Shigeru stares across the table to the back patio, pretending (I assume) that the rain spatter patterns on the glass are more interesting than they really are and ignoring me completely.

Finally I become so fed up with his behaviour that I snatch up his satchel from the floor. With this motion Shigeru finally looks up, and I gesture for him to follow me back through the living room into the hallway. "Come on, I'll show you where you'll be staying."

The basement door resides on the wall between my front door and the upstairs staircase, and it is directly across from the entrance into the living room. I open the basement door, its hinges creaking due to lack of oil, and flick the switch for the light along the old wooden stairs. I want to look back and ensure Shigeru is following me, but I force myself to focus on the task at hand instead and treat him with the same indifference he was showing me. Shortly I reach the soft, dingy carpet at the base of the stairs and hear Shigeru's footsteps as he steps on a creaky board I knew well enough to avoid.

The basement is dark and not nearly as tidy as the rest of the house, and I feel slightly embarrassed that this is where I offered Shigeru to stay. I should have tried harder when cleaning it this afternoon…. This feeling of embarrassment dissipates once I see him wander around the room, a slight frown on his face as if I wasn't present to observe him. He probably thinks I hate him greatly in order to hold him up in a place like this; there are cobwebs and layers of dust on the untouched, empty boxes left here by the previous tenant.

I feel the need to justify the mess. "I-I haven't got around to cleaning it up much yet, but you can stay here for the time being. The bathroom is upstairs on the second floor, you can't miss it. A-and if the dust here bothers you, you can stay on the couch in the living room instead –"

"This is fine," Shigeru interrupts coldly, walking over and taking his satchel from my hand and placing it on the hastily-cleaned desk. He sits down on the twin cot, smoothing the covers I had frumpily arranged this afternoon. "I don't want to be in the way. I'm causing enough problems by being here."

I wonder what he means by this, but I don't ask him. The tension that has been following us around has me feeling uneasy, and I want to leave him be as quickly as possible. I want to inquire about why he is here, how long he plans on staying, but before I can, Shigeru asks, "Can I be left alone now, Satoshi? I have some things I need to think through." He doesn't look at me as he tells me this.

The anger and anxiety I had been building up vanishes. I nod gravely and watch as Shigeru's hands move to his face again. He doesn't look like he's about to cry, which I'm grateful for; no one should ever have to see their strongest rival in a moment of personal weakness. Rather, Shigeru looks exhausted and withdrawn.

I quickly turn and mumble goodnight to Shigeru, leaving him alone to think; it was something he had done alone since we were children, and out of an old, near-forgotten habit I knew to leave him be. Upstairs I hear the whistle of the forgotten kettle, and I head up to silence it.

The door creaking as I worm it shut, I leave the dank basement behind me. As I turn off the kettle, I'm haunted by the rush of emotions I was experiencing in Shigeru's presence. He had been here barely an hour and already I feel my stomach squirming uncomfortably, sick with a strange nervousness I hadn't felt since my trainer years. I dredge upstairs to my room, tossing off my day clothes to the floor as I change.

Even hours later, as I toss and turn in bed, my mind is clouded by Shigeru, thoughts which linger on as I drift down into sleep.

-0-0-0-0-

I would like to give big hugs to reviewers_ insontas, L.A., K Richardson, Ulitheal, xox dolly xox, Shinichiri, slivershell, funny little frog_, and _cridget101_. Some of you are familiar names (I'm looking particularly at Ulitheal, Karone, and Shinichiri: it's great to hear from you all again!) and some are new (to whom I say 'Hi' and 'thank you for your interest!'). Once again, I am a review monger. Nom nom; please feed me.


	3. Chapter Three

Disclaimer: I do not own Pokemon or its characters. The story is a work of fiction and in no way shall money be made from this endeavor. Unauthorized reproduction or copying of this fiction is not allowed (aka do not copy/post/save to your hard drive or elsewhere).

Melody of a Memory

By Leika Lai

Chapter Three

That night I hardly slept at all. I suppose the knowledge that someone else was in the house with me, coupled with my recent insomnia, was enough to keep me on edge; I can vividly recall seeing every hour pass on the digital clock beside my bed. I toss and turn, listening to the sound of thunder and spattering rain loud and clear even through my closed window. Around four o'clock I give up on the notion of sleep and slide out of bed, grabbing my housecoat as I go. I plan on having a long, warm shower in hopes that it will help return me to slumber.

I pull a towel from the linen closet as I pass it, hanging it on the rack in the bathroom. There is a combination shower/bathtub in this bathroom, and for a moment I can't decide which would better suit my purpose. I stick with my original plan of showering, pulling the stop and turning the one large faucet three-quarters of a turn. The resulting torrent of water was pleasingly warm and soothing. I let the water run for a while as I strip down, watching as a heavy steam fills the room and fogs the mirror. Gingerly stepping in and pulling the curtain shut, I release a heavy, soothing sigh as the burning water comes into contact with my chilled flesh. Already I feel more relaxed than I was lying in bed.

My mind wanders as I shampoo my hair, building the lather up. I can't help but think of Shigeru, sleeping downstairs in that musty basement. I wonder what happened between him and his wife, what was so terrible that they were seeking a divorce. Rinsing the lather from my hair, I also wonder why it was me, of all people, Shigeru had asked for help during his time of need, and that he had even spoken to his grandfather about staying with me.

Why _was_ it me that he asked to stay with? We hadn't had a true conversation since the Silver Conference, and I was sure Shigeru must have _some _close friends living here in Tokusane, and yet he chose me to help him.

Shigeru…. He seemed so much more standoffish and distant than I remembered him. I always viewed Shigeru as self-assured and confident, taking from the world what he wanted with relative ease. Yet in this past twelve hours I've seen him at his worst: edgy, closed-lipped, and unresponsive. It bothers me to see my former rival appearing so deeply flawed. I try to refocus my thoughts on happier memories, but none arise to mind.

Hastily I wash up and rinse the fine layer of soap off of my skin, deciding that during an early morning shower was not the time to be trying to figure out my former rival's problems. I rub down quickly and redress, tossing the used towel into the hamper as I slump to bed and hopefully back to sleep.

----------

I awake to see the red digits of my alarm clock glaring 11:17 a.m. I groan to myself and shut my heavy eyelids. I might as well stay in bed until noon rolls by; I have nothing to do besides eat lunch anyways.

My heart skips a beat as I hear my front door slam shut. My eyes flying open, I'm suddenly aware that there is someone else in the house with me. The grogginess of sleep has made me forget about my eleventh-hour visitor last night, and I creep cautiously downstairs slowly to see what stranger was in my home.

I follow the noise the person is making and arrive at the entrance to the kitchen, and I'm surprised to see Shigeru glancing curiously at me. I realize I forgot my housecoat upstairs, and that I am standing there solely in my pajama bottoms.

"Do you always sleep in so late?" Shigeru asks sardonically as he places his coat on the back of a chair. It must be still raining outside; I notice the skin on his face is damp, and that his unruly hair is muted in color and hangs heavily on his head.

I mutter something about not sleeping well last night, scratching my head distractedly. I'm not quite fully awake, but the edge of sleep is beginning to leave my thoughts. I remember that Shigeru was staying at my home until God knows when, and I feel foolish for thinking it was a burglar in my house at half-past eleven in the morning.

A faint blush creeps into my face as I realize how ridiculous I must look to Shigeru; I'm half-asleep and half-dressed, storming about the place as if I'm mad. I glance in the mirror and see my raven locks standing disheveled on my head; I had fallen asleep while my hair was still wet and I am now paying the price for it.

Shigeru seems amused by my current status; a faint smirk appeared at the corner of his mouth as he glances over me. I glare at him indignantly and ask, "Well, what were you doing that you had to leave the house for?"

Shigeru's reply sounds hollow and dry. "I didn't realize I was being kept under lock and key." He sighs and holds up his hands, and I see two grocery bags hanging from each. "Your fridge was empty of all _edible _food when I looked into it, and your cupboards were the same. I took it upon myself to go out and by some groceries for breakfast, though I suppose lunch is a better fit with the time now."

"I could have done that myself," I mumble angrily, upset that Shigeru had to pay for food I should have already bought. I feel embarrassed that he has seen the state of my kitchen so blatantly.

"I wasn't going to sit around and starve while you were upstairs snoozing."

"I didn't say you had to starve."

Shigeru sighs and shrugs a gesture I take as meaning 'why bother with this conversation?' I reluctantly follow his lead, placing a stopper on my frustration with him.

Shigeru sets the groceries on the table and begins pulling items out, well on his way to ignoring me yet again. I counteract this by helping him put away the fruits, vegetables, pastas and eggs that he had purchased, as well as the condiments and other miscellaneous food items. "I'll reimburse you for all this," I stiffly state, but Shigeru only shakes his head in response, not once looking me in the eye.

"Consider this my way of paying room and board, Satoshi," he says quietly, placing a loaf of bread into the empty breadbox. "I'm making lunch now, if you want any."

--------

I was surprised to learn Shigeru could cook. From the brief sentences I could pry out of him, he said he did all the cooking at home; his wife was too busy with work, and to a lesser extent with the kids, to be taking care of the meals as well. Shigeru took over our meal's preparation, which would consist of simple spaghetti and homemade sauce.

I insisted on being useful, but unfortunately my culinary skills were severely lacking and so Shigeru delegated to me the task of building a salad. I was clumsy with the knife and shallowly cut myself several times, which were events that managed to pull derisive comments out of sullen Shigeru. I couldn't help but stare as I saw Shigeru deftly cut up tomatoes for the sauce, who is deeply concentrating on his work.

I casually survey the expression on his face; his appearance was soft and unaffected, yet there was a tinge of sorrow in his eyes. The dark lines were still apparent, though not as striking as they were last night. Shigeru's hair has dried from the rainwater, returning to the warm reddish-brown shade that I remembered. He has it styled much shorter and less spiky than I recall his hair being as a teenager, but it is still long enough that small pieces of it would hang down into his eyes. He would brush the tendrils casually aside with his wrist, never losing focus from his dicing and chopping.

"I'm doing something wrong, Satoshi?" Shigeru asks, looking at my direction with an inquiring eye whilst avoiding my gaze.

"Huh?" I reply, startled from my thoughts.

"You were staring at me."

"Sorry," I say numbly, averting my gaze back to my misshapen pile of lettuce. I focus my attention solely on chopping the vegetables, telling myself I was doing this in order to keep from cutting myself again. I could sense that now-familiar but still uneasy silence rising between us once again. Thankfully we were busy preparing the meal, which gave us a reason not to talk to each other.

After haphazardly completing the salad, I excuse myself from the kitchen. Shigeru nods silently as I exit the room, and I breathe a sigh of relief for momentarily escaping the tangible tension between us.

When had things become so uncomfortable? I couldn't recall a time when we were so ill at ease with one another. Certainly, when we were rivals we had a certain air of animosity between us, but _never_ something like this…. Perhaps it has to do with his divorce, or that he wished he didn't have to rely on me for help at this time in his life. I still want to know why he came to stay here, of all places, but Shigeru was closed-mouthed every time I attempted to broach the subject.

I go to my room and change into better day clothes, picking out a casual t-shirt and pants combination to wear back downstairs. By time I return to the kitchen, Shigeru has the table set and food placed onto the table. I notice, with some irritation, that he continues to avoid eye contact with me, but I try to ignore this as I set down at the table. "Looks good," I attempt to cheerfully say, hoping Shigeru would have something to say to cut the stillness. But he says nothing, only nodding slowly in agreement instead.

We eat in silence, neither of us looking at the other.

----------

The next three days passed similar to the first. The insomnia I have had since buying the house had grown in strength since Shigeru's arrival; the dark dream I had the night before he showed up, it became a recurring feature of my twilight thoughts. I had even given up on sleep altogether one night, electing instead to lie in bed and read until the sun rose.

Shigeru and I would only spend enough time together to eat a meal (if we happened to be hungry at the same time), and then we would go our separate ways. Neither of us talked for more than ten minutes, and when we did converse it was only about trivial matters. This was somewhat okay with me; I was more than happy to avoid our tense discussions whenever possible, as I was sick to death of Shigeru's ever-continuing apathy towards me. True to form, Shigeru didn't seem to mind the solitude either. Very seldom did he come to me for conversation.

Still, whatever was bothering Shigeru had not yet dissipated and I had no idea yet how to help him. The times we did talk were growing more and more heated, and the slightest comment between us could become warped and a basis for a fight. I already regretted my decision to let him stay.

Finally, four days in to this angst-ridden arrangement, I decide to approach Shigeru with a reluctant confrontation I had formulated in the early hours of the morning. I hadn't seen Shigeru yet today; he had quickly washed up his lunch dishes before returning to his room downstairs, leaving little time for any potential conversation. It had been a moot point anyways; I had elected to stay upstairs in my room once I had heard him clanging pots around as he made his own dinner.

I knock on the basement door. For a moment I wonder if Shigeru had left the house for the afternoon instead of going downstairs. He had been stepping out every so often, disappearing to who-knows-where and only returning in time for supper. I have little time to further consider this possibility before I hear the familiar squeak of the one creaky step in the stairwell and the basement door swings out towards me a pinch.

"What?" Shigeru asks through the crack, his voice emotionless.

"Come out of the basement, for once," I reply, trying my best to keep irritation from my tone. "We're going for a walk."

There is a beat of silence. Then Shigeru slowly says, "Are we now?" How he says it, it does not sound like a question.

I nod, despite him being unable to see me. "The weather is half-decent for the first time in weeks, and it'd be nice to get some fresh air for once." When Shigeru doesn't reply, I add seriously, "I think you and I need to have a talk before I decide whether or not I'm kicking you out."

This catches his attention. "You want to kick me out?" Again, it does not sound like a question when he says it.

"You haven't exactly been a desirable tenant."

"I've been better than most."

Again, I bite my inner cheek to keep from furiously firing back. I cross my arms and shake my head, staring at the ground. "Whatever. I just know that I am sick of the damned tension you brought here with you. I can barely breathe, it's so thick."

The basement door opens wider, and I look up to see Shigeru staring at me. It catches me off guard; I don't think he has looked me in the face even once since his arrival.

Shigeru steps into the hallway leans on the doorframe, sliding his hands into his pockets. "So where were you thinking of going?"

His tone tells me he's not entirely opposed to the idea of a walk with me. I feel my confidence rise, and I afford myself a weak grin. "Doesn't matter. Let's just go."

--------------

It didn't take us long to throw on our coats and shoes and be out the door. The sky was grey and murky with the threat of rain in the air but it was still clearer than it had been the past ten days. The ground was surprisingly dry, considering the amount of rain we've had; the ocean winds bring so much moisture with them this time of year.

Shigeru and I never officially decided on where we were going; instead, we elected to simply walk, following the sidewalk and crossing roads whenever we pleased. We didn't speak much at first; we must have looked pretty silly to any passersby, the two of us with our coat collars guarding against the chilly wind, hands stuffed into pockets and our gazes on the ground. To my surprise, I didn't feel overly tense spending this much time in Shigeru's presence.

We traveled until we reached the local shopping quarter, a niche district that was intended primarily for bohemian, young urbanites. Every once and a while he would catch my attention and ask me something about the neighbourhood, pointing out a coffee shop or kitschy bookstore I never knew existed.

Shigeru seems more relaxed now that we are out of my house. I briefly wonder if he's been having as much trouble sleeping in it as I have, but I rule out asking him such a silly question. I doubted he was having wicked dreams about himself, as I was. Instead, I follow his lead and use the city as a tension-breaker, a starting place to ease into more serious topics.

"So how do you like Tokusane, Shigeru?" I ask casually. We stop outside a trainer custom equipment shop and window shop it. Idly I note that they sell organic pokemon food here.

Shigeru shrugs, his attention elsewhere. "It's been fine, I guess. Lots of crappy weather during spring." His hand pressed to the window to cut glare, he says, "It's a lot different than Masara Town. Not in a bad way, just…different."

I nod in agreement. "I didn't think I liked it much either, but…it grows on you, I suppose."

"I only stayed in the city because Julia took a job with the university," Shigeru offers, stepping away from the shop in the process. "So I got one with the research lab here as well."

I nod, uncertain how to respond to his words. We walk down the cobbled roads of the neighbourhood, casually stopping at other stores every once and a while. I debate whether I should ask about why he was getting a divorce or if I should continue asking about his work. Jumping into the divorce might be too heavy a subject still….

However, in my typical, blunt fashion, I blurt out, "Shigeru, I want to know what's bothering you."

Shigeru stops walking, standing in place and blatantly staring at me while saying nothing. The unbearable tension I thought we had left behind suddenly returns in full force. I can't read his expression, but I can sense at least that he is not pleased.

This is going to be harder than I expected.

"What makes you think something's bothering me?" he asks guardedly, a glimmer of pain flashing across his features. I can sense his muscles tensing, as if he's ready to fight or run from me.

"Don't treat me like I'm stupid, Shigeru," I reply. I turn to face him forthright, keeping eye contact with him when I know he doesn't want it. "You have a family, but you aren't staying with them. You needed a place and chose me to be the sucker to put you up. You don't tell me a single thing about what's going on, but even a simpleton could tell something was up with you as soon as you arrived here." Summing up my courage, I ask outright, "Does it have to do with your divorce?"

For once, I catch Shigeru by surprise. He drops his mounting guard, suddenly appearing weak and defeated. "How did you know about that? Did Gramps mention it to you?"

"I read it in the newspaper, 'bout a week ago," I sheepishly admit, dropping my gaze for a moment. I felt bad for learning about his private life without his consent, but it wasn't as if I was the gossip columnist who pried into his life….

Shigeru hesitates; I can tell that he _does_ somewhat want to talk about what's wrong, but he's having difficulty breaking from his long-lasting habit of silence. He says slowly, "Yeah, it mostly has to do that…."

I look at him with concern, hoping he would continue. His gaze shifts between distressing looks at me and nervous glances at his shoes. His hands are stuffed into his coat pockets and he rocks back and forth on his heels. Opening his mouth as if to reply, he pauses, then reopens. With an air of callous indifference, he says, "I don't love her, and I'm not stupid enough to believe that she loves me anymore."

I am taken aback by his frankness; I expected to have to fight to get significant details from him. I never thought he would be open with me, his rival that he hated for so many years. Before I can reflect deeper into the issue, Shigeru begins to walk away. At first, I think he intends to lose me, but when he glances over his shoulder and slows his pace enough for me to easily match it, I realize he just wanted to walk and talk at the same time.

"She knew about me, I think, even before we spoke about it," he begins, talking mostly to himself from what I can tell. His shoe kicks a piece of stone and clatters it across the cobblestone. "I actually thought we – me and Julia – could work it out. After all, we already had so much in common. Both of us were children of famous researchers who're researchers ourselves; I think we were kind of in love at first but…it wasn't enough." He clears his throat into his closed fist, returning his hand deep into his coat's pocket once again.

"She wants to take from me everything she can in this divorce," Shigeru declares, a sliver of ache appearing in his usually warm and glibly casual voice. "It was one of the things she said to me before she kicked me out…." He smiles ruefully.

"She kicked you out?" I ask, surprised.

"Mhmm. Before I even thought of staying with you." Shigeru glances at me, the self-deprecating smile still on his face. "Actually, I only thought of it when I was talking to Gramps that night. He said that Hanako was worried about you. He thought it might've been a good idea for you to have some company."

I stare at him incredulously. "Are you serious?" I gasp, though I can tell that he is.

He laughs, a true laugh that sends a pleasant shiver through me. "Why would I lie about it?" he replies. I note that a real smile has replaced the ironic one he had moments ago. Shigeru continues, "Sounds to me like your mom thinks you need some company and that you've been a grumpy recluse lately."

I frown, huffily dropping my chin. "Have not…."

"Are you kidding me?" Shigeru says emphatically, his eyes wide and his mouth, an incredulous grin. "I've barely wanted to talk to you at all; you've been such a miserable bear."

"Same can be said of you," I hastily retort, though no anger can be heard in my voice. "You should have said something earlier about your divorce. I could've, I dunno…."

Shigeru watches me as we approach the nearing curb and slow down, a minor smirk plastered across his face. "D'you think you could be any help to such a thing?"

I stop walking too. My gaze drops to his chest as I mull over my response. "It's not that, just…. I could have lent an ear, s'all."

"You're doing that now," he says quietly, his gaze mimicking mine and dropping down. I'm surprised by the sincerity in his tone.

For once, I'm at a loss for words. That damned tension following us has almost completely dissipated. I've learned more than I had ever thought I would from this minor excursion into the neighbourhood, and I don't know how to tell Shigeru how glad I am that he spoke up.

Shigeru clears his throat, rocking back on his heels again. He extends his hand, gesturing in front of him as he talks. "So…have you decided whether you're kicking me out yet or not?"

For a second, I think he's serious. One look on his face tells me that he's being cheeky yet again. I roll my eyes. "I dunno… I'd say you're off the hook for now…."

"Good." Shigeru tucks his hands into his pockets and looks around the block. I follow his gaze and realize he's staring at a local bistro. "Say, you want to go for supper?" he asks, pointing to it, "I'm starving and too lazy to cook."

I shake my head amusedly, heading towards the bistro. "Be afraid, Shigeru: you're starting to sound like me."

-0-0-0-0-

A huge thanks goes out to reviewers slivershell, shinigami219, Ulitheal and Failisse. I am so grateful for your feedback! I hope you continue to enjoy the story as it progresses :)


	4. Chapter Four

Author's Note: Despite any possible evidence to the contrary, I love VHS tapes :) Also, Tosakinto are Goldeen and are only mentioned in passing. Lastly, since I've been M.I.A. for the past couple weeks, I decided to upload this chapter a day early.

Disclaimer: I do not own Pokemon or its characters. The story is a work of fiction and in no way shall money be made from this endeavor. Unauthorized reproduction or copying of this fiction is not allowed (aka do not copy/post/save to your hard drive or elsewhere).

Melody of a Memory  
By Leika Lai

Chapter Four

While I wouldn't say that everything became easy for Shigeru and me after we spoke, I would say there was a definite improvement to the atmosphere of my home. The next couple days still passed similar to the first; the main difference, I felt, was that I was finally sleeping at night. All of a sudden I was routinely snoozing until passed 9:30 a.m. and feeling rested enough that waking up didn't feel like a chore. I suppose I became used to the fact that someone else was in the house with me, and somehow that made the building seem less…empty.

An unexpected side effect of our conversation was that Shigeru began spending more time in the common areas of my house. Before, he existed solely in the kitchen or the basement, never lingering in any room else I might have run into him. Now, though, I often spotted him relaxing on the soft couch in the front room, reading the newspaper (_he's bring in the mail_, I notice) or watching television. While I wasn't overly willing to use these opportunities to hang out with him, I was still glad to have the option open.

Also, I was pleased that, one afternoon, Shigeru invited me for a jaunt through the local quarters. Shortly after lunch, he and I donned our outside jackets and patrolled the area, using this time to investigate a different area of the city that neither of us had good working knowledge of. We even stopped at a cafe and had hot drinks, preparing ourselves for the return walk home in the evening chill.

We were finally starting to be at ease with each other. However, I could tell that whatever was bothering Shigeru was not dissipating; in fact, despite how well things were going between us, he appeared to be doing worse than when he first arrived. From the deep circles forming beneath his eyes, I surmised he hadn't been sleeping well either.

I started to realize that Shigeru wasn't so much _relaxing _in the front room as merely spending time in it. He would watch a little TV or stare out the front window, occasionally saying something to me as I read a novel at the kitchen table, just one room away. As I observed him from afar, I saw he appeared agitated, as if something heavy was weighing on his mind. Again, I noticed that he would often leave the house for hours at a time, no explanation, and return long after the dinner hour.

Sometimes Shigeru stayed up for hours after I'd gone to bed, watching the late night news until the channel stopped airing programs. Often I had to get up and go downstairs to stop the dull off-air siren from sounding, as Shigeru had already fallen asleep on the couch. On these occasions, I would fish a blanket out of the upstairs linen closet and drape it over his frame. In the morning, when I got up earlier than I thought he would be awake, I would find no trace of Shigeru's presence except for the blanket folded up on the couch.

I had no idea what to do. I felt I had already bridged the gap between us once before, and that should have been enough for to Shigeru to feel like he could talk to me anytime. I didn't want to embarrass either myself or him by asking, yet again, if something was bothering him. Still, I knew for a fact that something was.

I decided the best compromise I could make was to simply be around incase Shigeru needed someone to talk to, maybe even to start prying conversation out of him. I began inviting myself into the living room whenever he was there, sitting in the reclining chair when he was on the couch and reading my book while he was busy with…whatever. It took a couple days of this self-invitation before any effect was known.

One night, about a week after he first showed up, Shigeru casually said, "D'you have any movies in the house?"

I glanced up from my novel, caught by surprise. I frown, looking over to the television system in the corner. "I dunno," I begin slowly, "I think I have a VCR but, as for tapes…." I shrug, uncertain. Shigeru, for his part, looked at me incredulously. Self-conscious, I say, "What?"

"Tapes? Not DVDs?"

My cheeks flush red. "Whatever. So I don't keep up with the times."

"You mean, you fell out of the times and never managed to recover." He smirks as he says this.

I roll my eyes, inwardly pleased to see a smile on Shigeru's face, even if it was at my detriment. I return my attention to my book, but I as I watch over the pages I see that Shigeru is drumming his fingers anxiously over his knee. I watch this action for a while before asking, "What's the matter?"

"Hmm?" Shigeru follows my gaze to his fingers. The drumming stops. "Nothing," he says, a strong, casual air to his voice. "Just jittery."

I set down my book again. "What're you thinking of?" I ask.

"Nothing," Shigeru says again. His breath hitches almost imperceptibly as he asks, "What do you think about seeing a movie? I spotted a theater not too many blocks from here…."

Shigeru watches me as I mull it over. I say slowly, "I haven't kept up with the movie scene. I don't know anything that's playing…."

"I think that became public knowledge the second you said you own a VCR…."

"Shut up." I set my book down on the coffee table and rise out of my chair. "Get your coat, we're going."

----------

The movie we watched, it was chosen because of the time it was playing at rather than its quality. It was an alright film, I suppose, though I wasn't one for movies. When I asked Shigeru what he thought of it, he agreed with my opinion and confessed that the movie was just an excuse to get out of the house for a stint of time.

"Sick of my company yet, the miserable bear that I am?"

Shigeru shakes his head and chuckles. "When did I ever call you that?"

We are standing outside the theater, beneath the awning, listening to the rainfall pattering across the now-vacant parking lot. While the weather had been almost pleasant when we left for the show, it had started raining sometime before the film's end. We tried flagging a cab down but, stupidly enough, not many taxis were patrolling the area this time of night.

I release a weighty sigh. "Well, it appears we're stuck. Unless you can produce a vehicle somehow…."

"Sorry, fresh out." Shigeru shrugs, zipping up his coat and throwing the hood over his head. "Should we just walk it? It isn't that far."

My hands run over the front of my jacket, tracing the collar for a hood that didn't exist. True, it isn't a far expedition, but I'm not looking forward to arriving home sopping wet….

Shigeru watches my hands, saying, "If you're worried about it, we can still try for a cab."

Making up my mind, I shake my head. "Nah, don't be bothered. By time we call one and they come around, we could be home."

We take a different path home than we did traveling to the theater. This one heads through a park fairly close to my home, only a few blocks away. With the rain falling on my head, I don't feel much like talking, but Shigeru points out the minor sights to see: topiary trees and bushes along the pathway, lush lawns that look sleek black in the lamplight, and a fountain filled with Tosakinto residing in the heart of the park.

"This is the type of place I'd bring the kids," Shigeru comments idly. Rain is beating down on us quite hard, and I find it difficult to hear him.

"Were you excited to have children?" I ask this because at my age the thought of children is foreign and unfathomable.

Shigeru ponders my comment, long enough that I think he isn't going to respond. Finally he says, "The girls are the one good thing coming out of all of this…mess with Jules."

"What are their names?"

"Midori and Mahoka, though Julia prefers to call them by their middle names, Madeleine and Marguarite."

"Is Julia foreign to Houen?" I ask. There aren't many people I know in the region that use Western names. As I say it, though, I come up with the response myself. Stupidly, I remember that Julia is from Nibi, same as my friend Takeshi.

"Not really," Shigeru replies. I watch the rain slide off his hood, dripping onto his face. "She's from Kanto, like us. Her real name is Jumi, but she chose a Western name to match her mother and to piss off her father."

"Her mother is Western?"

Shigeru nods. "Jules likes to keep the tradition alive." Lowly he adds, his head dropping down, "You should meet the girls sometime. They're fantastic. So vibrant and lively."

"I'd love to," I reply, smiling. My smile morphs into a frown as I note that Shigeru's mood seems to have shifted; one minute ago he was happy, but from his body language I realize he's now upset. I slow my pace, seeing how we had reached the curb outside the park entrance nearest to my block. "What's wrong, Geru?"

Shigeru stops beside me, shaking his head. "Just thinking of what Jules said before she kicked me out. How… she wants to hurt me deeply. That's why she's…" He swallows thickly and proclaims, "She wants full custody of Midori and Mahoka. She wants to make it so…I-I won't ever see them again."

I stare at Shigeru, horrified both by his sudden vulnerability and by Julia's behaviour. "Shit…" I say, mostly because I don't know how else to respond.

Shigeru stares at the puddles in the gutter, watching as the spatters of rain destroy the reflections within it. His head bobs up and down in agreement, his attention elsewhere. Finally he says, "C'mon, let's just get home. You're soaking wet, Sato."

----------

I sleep until noon the next day and find, upon awakening, that my head is throbbing dully in my temples. Silently I beg to the gods of health and illness to ignore me this time, pleading that my venture into cold and rainy space didn't merit a sickly punishment. I head downstairs to find Shigeru and see how he's feeling, but he must have stepped out of the house again. For the umpteenth time I wonder where it is he disappears to so frequently. I resolve to ask him when he returns.

Sure enough, Shigeru returns by six o'clock, shaking rain off his coat and kicking his shoes onto the register by the door. I had been resting along the couch for the majority of the afternoon, trying to ready my strength incase I was, in fact, sick.

"Where've you been?" I ask, closing my book on my chest in order to look at him. I note that he is carrying a briefcase that I hadn't seen before.

Shigeru sets the case against the wall and shakes his hair off over the mat. He tromps into the living room and sets down on the couch, by my feet. "Had another damn meeting with Jules and the lawyers. Swear to god, I don't know what I'm paying mine for, he's so useless…."

"Those are divorce meetings you've been going to?" I ask, surprised. I don't know what I thought he was leaving for, but I didn't think it concerned the divorce.

"Mhmm, for the most part." He releases a despondent sigh, stretching out and setting his feet onto the coffee table. I realize that his one arm laxly hangs over my ankles, his other tucked behind his head. I sit up to break the contact, but it is a moot point; Shigeru picks this time to stand and gather the briefcase. He sits down beside me, now in the vacated space created when I sat up, and sets the case on the coffee table in front of us.

"This," Shigeru begins, flipping through some sheets in the top of the briefcase, "is the list of everything I – we, me and Jules, own. Bank accounts, stocks, property, you name it." He passes the papers to me, our hands briefly touching. I have only a moment to glance over the stapled stack of papers before he moves on. "And _this_ is everything Julia is fighting me for." I realize, with only minor shock, that the second pile of paper is only slightly smaller than the first.

"Holy…" I mutter, flipping through the sheets at random. I feel rather than see Shigeru settle in by my side, looking at the papers alongside of me. I ask incredulously, "Why the hell is she so mad at you?" The fact that she was seeking so much from Shigeru made me wonder whether he instigated the divorce or not.

Shigeru laughs, though there is no mirth in his voice. "You really want to know?"

I turn to face him. "Yeah, I do," I reply sincerely. I don't realize it, but we are sitting rather close to one other. Shigeru shrugs, his gaze avoiding mine.

"Alright, since you asked…" he says obscurely. I have barely any time to consider what he means before his hand brushes my cheek and his lips close on mine.

In hindsight, if I'm being honest, I blew the whole situation out of proportion. Seriously, the whole kiss mustn't have lasted more than a second or two, tops. A peck on the cheek would have been longer and more romantic than this had been.

That being said, it doesn't accurately describe how it felt like that second exploded into an hour, I was that taken aback. It doesn't given the slightest clue to the fact that I felt so hypersensitive during the – _event_, aware of his hand curling quickly along my jawbone, the slight pressure Shigeru gave before pulling away and leaning back onto the couch, the typical amount of personal space sprouting up between us. He just sat there, like nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

I must have looked pretty stupid to Shigeru, staring back at him like that: numb, still holding the stapled pages open in both hands, my eyes wide and my mouth slightly ajar. He must have thought I was terrified. Shigeru laughs to himself, a single chuckle that, again, contained no humor.

When I don't respond, don't to _anything, _Shigeru's gaze drops glumly to the coffee table. Sighing, he cryptically says, "You figure that one out yourself."

With that, Shigeru slides the papers from my slack fingers and sets them in the briefcase once more. I can only follow him with my gaze as he walks over to the basement, his outline briefly illuminated before he shuts the door and marches down the flight of stairs.

-0-0-0-0-

Damn. Why do my chapter lengths never coincide nicely with a break in action? As per usual, nom nom; I'm hungry for feedback.

I want to give a special thank-you to everyone who reviewed the last chapter: slivershell, starkmadness, Kris Bambii (hello again! I remember you :D), cridget101, The Lady Yuki, Failisse, Diddle-chan (Hi! Thank you so much for bugging me via PM; I probably wouldn't have restarted this 'fic if not for you), Chibi Tsuki Hikari, Vinillii, patty1234554321, Suki-chan36, and ASHGARY (I recognize your name too :) Good to hear from you again!).


	5. Chapter Five

Disclaimer: I do not own Pokemon or its characters. The story is a work of fiction and in no way shall money be made from this endeavor. Unauthorized reproduction or copying of this fiction is not allowed (aka do not copy/post/save to your hard drive or elsewhere!)

Melody of a Memory  
By Leika Lai

Chapter Five

That night, I couldn't rest. I stayed in bed, tossing and turning, but I couldn't fall asleep. I was so anxious, my stomach felt like it was on fire. I was trying to make sense of Shigeru's behaviour in the living room. Part of my anxiety stemmed from what Shigeru had done, but the vast majority of it focused on my reaction to it. I remained curled in bed, my arms tucked close to my body and my mind glaringly alert, until dawn broke and it was time to officially rejoin the waking world.

The time is currently half past two in the afternoon and I refuse to go downstairs. I'm restless and wreaked with hunger pains, but I have no way of telling whether or not Shigeru is down there, and I have no intention of seeing him so soon after last night. I've spent the last sixteen hours thinking about what happened and what conclusions I've drawn are bewildering to say the least.

Although I suppose 'conclusions' is an exaggeration of what I had come up with. 'Deluded ravings' is a better description of what I'd thought of to explain Shigeru's bizarre behaviour and my reaction thereupon. The kiss? A joke of Shigeru's, obviously nothing to be taken seriously. The way my stomach tied in knots at the memory of it? Just a nervous response to an awkward situation. It wasn't any other feeling. Still, what it could be worries me….

Mulling through my thoughts, I try to recall any memory concerning deep-rooted feelings for someone else. I manage to find a slightly embarrassing recollection that comes close to what I'm looking for.

I'd never told anyone, but for a while, on my journey through Houen, I thought I had felt an attraction towards Haruka…. It was a minor and incidental thing; I had summed any feelings I was having to the mere fact that Haruka was the only girl for miles in any direction. I had never acted on these feelings, of course; it was too far-fetched an idea for me to ever kiss someone I considered a friend.

I try and think back to how I felt while I was infatuated with her, the way my stomach would hitch at the sight of the sparkle of light that caught in her deep blue eyes, the anxiety I felt when she looked in my direction….

Disparagingly I realize the knot in my stomach bears a striking resemblance to the ones I felt all those years ago. I think back over the past week, brashly trying to decide whether Shigeru was interested in me or not (_God, please no)_. I recall the walks, the coffee trips and the movie, but none of these events strike me as romantic gestures.

As I think, my stomach releases another hungry growl and I moan worryingly about my situation. I couldn't stay up here forever, but to even risk seeing Shigeru…. Starving to death was a more tempting option.

With only a small hope for success, I begin convincing myself everything will be alright. I never acted on my feelings for Haruka, and soon I forgot any feelings I might have had for her. We were back to status quo without her ever being the wiser of how I felt. If this is _truly_ the same situation, then these feelings will eventually pass. I can ignore this anxiety and it'll eventually subside. This thought lightens my mood somewhat.

Another hunger pang hits me, this time stronger than the last. I double over as my stomach pleads with me to feed it, and dejectedly I realize that I have to risk facing Shigeru sometime soon. I slide from my bed and place my feet onto the floor, looking into my closet and choose what clothes to put on. Rallying my courage, I unlock my door and begin the trek downstairs.

Every footstep feels like an eternity, and I listen acutely for signs as to whether or not Shigeru is around. I hear nothing, however, the blood pounding in my ears drowning out any other possibility. I timidly turn the corner into the kitchen.

I see Shigeru sitting at the table, sipping on a cup of coffee and reading the paper. He looks up at me as I enter, and I feel a tightening in my abdomen as his gaze turns to me.

"You hold odd hours for getting up, Satoshi," Shigeru says nonchalantly, returning his interest to the newspaper at hand. He gestures to the fridge behind him. "There are some of my lunch leftovers in there if you're hungry."

"I'm fine," I say severely, and my stomach gives a poorly-timed, treacherous grumble.

Shigeru's mouth twists into a wry smile. "If you say so." He takes a drink from his cup, no longer paying attention to me. I'm left wondering why Shigeru is acting so calm; yeah, so he was being kind of guarded and detached in his speech, but I had expected that he would at least want to explain himself about last night….

I make my way over to the fridge and glance over the edibles inside. Nothing appeals to me, but I nonetheless grab a package of sandwich meats, lettuce and tomato and set about making a sandwich. It's past three o'clock now; I wonder if I should fill up on food or try to tide over until supper.

Even as I work on my sandwich in silence, a masochistic part of me wants to talk to Shigeru, to figure out what motivated him to do what he had done. But I can't tell if Shigeru is pointedly ignoring last night or not, the way he is choosing not to talk to me. You'd think he would have said something about it by now, but he hasn't; he just sits and reads the paper, oblivious to me standing behind him. How weird is that?

I take my time cutting tomato and spreading mayonnaise onto the bread slices, hoping Shigeru would use this time to finally say something to me. But he does nothing, and I'm left to continue wondering if I should bring up the topic again or not.

I lick some excess mayonnaise off my finger, cutting and placing the sandwich halves on a plate before heading to the table. I sit across from Shigeru and I feel very anxious with our proximity. I tell myself I'm being ridiculous, and that sitting across from him was never a problem until…well, today.

I hungrily inhale half my sandwich in a couple of bites, chewing quickly. I glance up occasionally at Shigeru, seeing him flip through the pages of the newspaper. I feel as if every minute takes an hour to complete itself; time is taking an eternity to pass in this dreadful silence. I have only a few mouthfuls of sandwich left when Shigeru finally speaks again.

"Are you okay?" Shigeru finally asks, his gaze trained on the newspaper rather than me.

I swallow thickly, uncertain how to respond. Even an idiot could tell that I am freaking out and want to avoid him.

"Umm, I-I'm fine. Good, just…good," I manage to reply. I watch Shigeru carefully, trying to get any insight into his thoughts. With my words, he – I don't know how to describe it – _deflates _somehow. He chews his lower lip mindlessly, an anxious tick of his.

"Satoshi…about last night…" he begins cautiously, and I feel a lead weight fall into the pit of my stomach. My mouth dries up and I have to choke down the remainder of my sandwich before I can even look back at him. My stomach feels anxious and I hope to the powers above that I don't throw up from nerves.

"I'm sorry if you took what I did the wrong way. I was just kidding around, so forget it."

From the way he says it, I can't tell if Shigeru is being honest or just trying to pacify me. Shigeru moves from his seat at the table, putting our time together to an end. He places his coffee cup into the sink and walks out of the room, and I'm left feeling overwhelmed and puzzled. Did he leave because he was finished with the paper, or because he was finished talking to me? Was he upset with me? With my reaction? What was I supposed to do?

I release a frustrated sigh, unable to continue my train of thought. This was _way_ too deep of thinking for me. What matters is Shigeru isn't bothered by (and doesn't want to talk about) what happened, and I feel relieved at the thought. Things could still be okay between us; I would probably be uncomfortable around him occasionally, like I was around Haruka before, but once this stupid feeling passes we would be fine again.

Right?

----------

I'm surprised when Shigeru leaves the house shortly after my "lunch" without bothering to tell me. It wasn't as if I was trying to control his life, but I still wish that he would tell me he is leaving before he does so.… The house is silent in his absence, and I find myself wondering what I should do with my time. I debate going out for a while as well, but the thought is unappealing due to the dampness outside and my continuing headache. Instead, I settle down in the living room and watch TV.

Shigeru finally returns home a few hours later, wordlessly coming inside. I'm lounging on the sofa, watching an old horror movie that I found by flicking through the channels in rapid succession. I glance up at Shigeru as he passes by, and I am mildly amused by how he tiredly slouches into the reclining chair. He holds his briefcase in one hand, resting it over his legs as if to open it. Instead, he taps his fingers distractedly along the hard, plastic surface of the case.

I watch him closely for a while, seeing how he is decidedly neither looking at me nor bring up the subject of his departure. I try to stop myself but, my curiosity taking over me, I ask him, "Where did you go?" I sit up on the couch and turn the TV off; the heroine-slash-victim of the horror film is cut off mid-scream.

"Another meeting with Jules," he replies simply. He's still drumming his fingers across the briefcase, trying to stop himself from opening it.

"The divorce again, Shigeru?" I ask slowly.

"Not really," he mumbles, paying more attention to his briefcase than to me. "I called her earlier today, while you were hid up in your room, and we arranged a conference." Shigeru sighs, deciding to set the briefcase down on the coffee table in order to stop fiddling with it. His hands revert back to his now-familiar nervous tell. Pausing thoughtfully, he adds, "She seemed less angry than when I last saw her."

I watch him closely as he speaks, taking in his confused, thoughtful expression. He looks at me, but I can't think of anything to say to this. He distractedly pushes a hand through his bangs, killing time by composing himself. Finally he says, "She told me I could come back home…if I wanted to."

I am taken aback by this. I had come to think of Shigeru as a permanent resident of my house, his stay having no end in sight. "Are you going to?" I ask him, hoping simultaneously that his response will be no and yes. I'm surprised by how much I've enjoyed his company, the way he helped ease the silence in my house, but a fleeting thought of the awkwardness from last night….

"I don't know," he replies. He watches me intently, and I feel another one of those shivers rush down my spine. Shigeru continues, unaware of my inner thoughts, "Do you think I should go back?" He stares at me in earnest, and again I don't know what to say.

"It's up to you to decide, Shigeru," I reply lamely, unwilling to make such a large decision for him.

Shigeru seems disappointed by my response; he drops his gaze back to the briefcase, appearing suddenly tired and older than his years. "I guess I'll go home then," he concludes, the words rolling languidly off his tongue. He sits up from the recliner, grabbing the briefcase as he leaves the room. He pauses just outside of the entryway and turns to look at me again. Leaning on the wall slightly, his auburn hair tangled against the cool surface, he hesitantly asks, "Is it okay if I stay tonight and leave here tomorrow?"

I nod. "You've been here this long already; what's another night?"

He smiles in a distracted, sad way and thanks me. I watch him as he opens the creaky door to the basement and is engulfed by the darkness within. "Aren't you going to eat some dinner?" I call after him, but I receive no reply.

----------

The next morning I am awake bright and early, my nerves jangling; the knowledge that Shigeru is about to leave my life is enough to keep me from sleeping. Still, I'm surprised when he finally calls up the stairwell to let me know he is going.

I refuse to let him run off without eating something first, so I call back for him to wait until I got down. I hurriedly change into day clothes and dash downstairs, surprisingly eager to see him go. I feel only mildly remorseful about being so happy about his departure.

He has his satchel packed and placed by the front door, his briefcase leaning between it and the wall. Shigeru pulls off his boots and follows me into the kitchen, reluctantly agreeing to a plate of eggs and hash browns before heading out. We work together smoothly and efficiently; I set the table as Shigeru tended to both the frying food. It finishes cooking quickly, and Shigeru shortly dishes out the meal with relative ease.

We eat in silence, as usual, sitting across the table from one another. I take in his depressed expression, only mildly curious as to why he looks so down. When I notice him glancing in my direction, I manage to catch his gaze without feeling so much as a shiver down my spine. I was pleased with myself; perhaps I was right about the kiss being nothing but a joke that I overreacted to.

We finish our meals close to the same time, and when he offers to help with the dishes I tell Shigeru not to worry.

"Why are you in such a rush to get me out of here?" he asks me, following me back to the front door.

"No reason," I reply, hoping my tone sounded teasing rather than desperate. I smile at him when he looks at me questioningly, but he says nothing in response. He watches me as I gather his belongings, his appearance upset, but I again choose to ignore this.

Slipping his coat back on over his sweater, Shigeru grabs the carry-on and briefcase before stepping towards the door. He looks as if he wants to say something, but he can't bring himself to do so. I step forward and turn the knob, opening the door for him, and Shigeru nods in thanks.

He still doesn't leave, though; Shigeru simply stands there, looking at me. He steps towards me, making a hesitant motion I recognize as a hug, but he reconsiders and holds his empty palm out to me. I take it in my own and shake it, not immediately releasing his grasp. "Thank you, for everything," Shigeru says to me genuinely, squeezing my hand tightly for emphasis.

"It was nothing," I reply, a faint blush rising to my cheeks. It feels strange to hear Shigeru being so grateful towards me. "Good luck with…everything."

Shigeru gives me a faint smile that doesn't reach his eyes. Slowly we release our hands, and Shigeru passes through the front door and out of my life with one final, silent glance. I wait until I see him hail a taxi and pull away from the curb before shutting the door and breathing a sigh of relief. I'm content that _that _problem in my life had been solved, and yet I don't feel as satisfied as I'd thought I would.

I shake my head as if to remove of my uneasiness, and I decide to distract my mind by returning to the kitchen to clean up the mess we made.

----------

That night, the city of Tokusane had one of the worst thunderstorms it has faced in years. The storm brought gales so strong that it rattled plates in their cupboards; shingles were torn from roofs by the dozen, and branches were scattered across yards, rooftops, and roads alike when the wind ripped them from their plants.

That night, I lay in bed awake, no longer able to sleep as I had in the past few days. The storm whined and screamed as it tore through the city, yet I barely heard it at all.

The house's atmosphere is empty and unnerving. I am highly aware of my solitude, of the guilt stirring in my stomach. I bury my face into the pillow, turning over again and again, trying to find a comfortable position but unable to do so. My insomnia has returned in full force, and I can't understand what brought it back from submission. It is after three in the morning before I finally pass out into an agitated sleep, murky dreams haunting my night.

-0-0-0-0-

Yum, angst.

Again, I would like to give gigantic thanks to all the readers and especially to the reviewers for spending their time on my 'fic. Big-time thanks to Vinillii, Chibi Tsuki Hikari (just wait and you might see some of the events you describe (; ), cridget101, The Lady Yuki (the 'in hindsight' reference was explained via this chapter, I hope), Failisse, Guardian Dimension, Arisu, Ulitheal, ASHGARY (yep I am almost fully recovered now; thank-you so much for your well wishes!), Devildelivery, RedHeadtheGirl (it is longer but there _are _less descriptions than before; I've added more scenes and cut a lot of 'flowery' prose from the original :P), and blackkat13.

I know everyone says it, but life has seriously been kicking my ass the last month and I haven't the time I originally thought to work on this story. I wish I was more personal with responses for each of you, since I adore you all for taking the time to give some feedback!

Take care, dearies, and let me know what you think :)


	6. Chapter Six

Author's Note: The Japanese name for Eevee is Iibui, and it is mentioned in passing this chapter.

Disclaimer: I do not own Pokemon or its characters. The story is a work of fiction and in no way shall money be made from this endeavor. Unauthorized reproduction or copying of this fiction is not allowed (aka do not copy/post/save to your hard drive or elsewhere).

Melody of a Memory  
By Leika Lai

Chapter Six

When I finally awake, the storm has passed, and the air outside is unnervingly calm and bright. I get out from beneath the covers and walk over to the window, observing my cramped backyard. There are pools of water in the low spots of the lawn, and a dozen or so small plants have been ripped from the ground by the wind. I suppose I'll clean up the mess later, although it's likely that another storm will blow by before too long.

That afternoon I take a walk around the neighborhood, needing an escape from the unbearable silence at home. I want to see the damage the storm has done to the city firsthand. The grass is slick and dark with fallen rain, and there are many thick tree branches lying along the roads where they were pushed aside so people could drive. Urban workers are lined up along the street, working to fix knocked down telephone and power lines. Heaps of litter and loose paper are pressed up tight against the fences in yards, and the overall appearance of Tokusane City is one of unkempt griminess. By time I have walked a couple blocks, the morning's heavy chill has set deep into my skin, making me shiver.

I follow the curb's corner, completing a walk around the block before returning home. I feel like my mind is subconsciously working on a problem I don't know, and that I am unable to think or focus my thoughts as a result of it. The trip passes by in a blur, and I start to wish that I had stayed home after all. There are so many people bustling about, and the city is so noisy. I find myself missing the comfortable silence Shigeru and I had in the last few days of his stay.

I wonder if he and Julia are any closer to reconciling their differences yet, if they are going to work out their problems and avoid this whole mess. Shigeru said she was acting less angry, but he didn't seem all that convinced that he should return to her.

Why hadn't I told him to stay? Why hadn't I paid closer attention to his hesitation about returning home to that witch? I had been too busy thinking about what would be best for me and not for Shigeru. I feel guilty about my selfishness and I want to compensate for abandoning him so readily. I should have just suffered through it and let Shigeru stay.

I halt suddenly and break from my thoughts, realizing that I had just walked by my own house. Shaking my head at my inattentiveness, I double back to my walkway, grabbing the daily mail as I start back inside.

* * *

Two more days pass the same as the last, empty and incomplete.

I can't sleep, so I lie on the couch watching the television until the small hours of the morning. Nothing interesting is on, but I watch in the hopes of finally nodding off from boredom. When another fatiguing morning comes by, I make a cup of coffee and read the newspaper. I wander listlessly around the house until noon, when I make a small meal and reread the paper.

In the afternoon I walk around the city like Shigeru and I had done before, more for something to do outside of the house than as a method of exercise. I return in time for dinner, and afterwards I head up to my room, hopeful that I could possibly – _finally _– fall asleep once more. I even stayed up all night once and completely cleaned out the spare bedroom on the second floor, unpacking all the belongings and discarding the empty boxes. I had hoped this would tire me out enough to make me sleep, but it was to no avail. At least I was somewhat making use of my time….

On a walk downtown, an abrupt downfall of rain catches me by surprise: another ill-fated storm of the season. I had been wearing a light jacket at the time, and I was drenched to the bone by time I finally found shelter from the spattering water. With dark humor, I realize this was the second time in a week I had returned home frozen and coughing from the rain. The second soaking seemed to compound my already pounding head with a bad cough and a thick feeling in my chest. I debated going to a doctor about it or not, but I decided I couldn't be bothered to make another full-fledged trip downtown.

Today, in the afternoon, I receive a phone call from one of the local Tokusane corporations, asking if I would consider attending a promotional gig for their company. I thank them but hastily decline their offer, hanging up as quickly as possible; I detest when I'm asked to be present at events simply because I am the reigning Master. Petty businesses want to parade me around and have me attract prospective customers to them like moths to a flame, and it irritates me to no end when they shamelessly attempt to do this.

Not long after the phone call I hear a knock on my door, and irrationally I think it must be Shigeru. I swing the door open wide in hopes, crestfallen when it isn't him standing there. A couple of young trainers – a boy and a girl - are present instead, smiling widely and excitedly at me. They said they saw me around the neighborhood and had recognized me as the Master from all the trainer magazines. The young boy held out a pad of paper with a pen for me, eagerly gesturing for an autograph. I don't like to disappoint kids, so I scribble my name and theirs down on each of their papers, waving to the trainers as they leave.

By time seven o'clock rolls around I've finished cleaning up a supper consisting of lukewarm TV dinners. I toss the empty plastic plate into the trash and wash my hands in the sink. The meal was unappetizing and unfulfilling, but I'm not in the mood for something extravagant. I cough thickly into my fist, my chest starting to throb, and I stare out the back window, considering whether or not I should watch some TV before retiring upstairs.

I hear a distant crack of thunder roll in, and the beginnings of a rain spattering against the glass panes of my patio door. I groan and roll my eyes; please, please not another storm. I knew Tokusane City had regular stormy weather, results of the clashing systems and proximity to the open sea, but I never thought it would be like this…. It felt like all we receive are chains of melancholy conditions; everything is always wet and clingy, and you couldn't go outside and enjoy the fresh air without being drenched, trapping everyone indoors and away from each other.

I slouch down at the dinner table and place my hands to my face, my muscles quivering and my breath unstable. I feel so close to crying; I've never been so utterly alone before in my life. I always had someone, even if it was only Pikachuu, for company beside me, and the past five weeks has been a devastating eye-opener to me. I don't think I can make it on my own; I need somebody, _anybody_, around me to cut the chill of solitude, letting me know I have someone there to talk to if I need to.

I consider calling Kasumi or Haruka, but dismiss the ideas quickly. The time zone in Kanto is hours ahead; it was probably close to midnight in Hanada City, and Kasumi would not be please if I awoke her. Haruka is busy working hard on advising the construction of the Contest centre, and I wouldn't feel right interrupting her to merely complain about feeling lonely. I chew on my thumb knuckle as I consider my other options.

It strikes me, the knowledge of who I can call. I'm doubtful of doing so, but I bring out my phone book, flipping it open to the O section. Omake…Onosaji…Ookido. I trace my finger along to Shigeru's home number. I momentarily hesitate, my fingers now hovering above the punch pad of my video phone. Should I _really_ be calling Shigeru? What would I even say? This wasn't going to help me forget about him, I tell myself…. But I miss him; it wouldn't hurt to just _talk_ to him…. I start punching the numbers into the machine before I chicken out.

I almost lose my nerve and hang up as I hear the first ring come and see the 'CONNECTING…' message pop up across the video screen, but I force myself to stay on the line. Another coughing bout hits me, this time doubling me over, the back of my throat burning in pain. My heart is pounding in my ears, and my hand feels slick against the smooth plastic of the receiver; I can't tell if this is from my illness or from my nervousness to speak to Shigeru. After what seems like forever, a face appears on the screen as my call is answered. I let out a breath I'm unaware I was holding, and I am surprised by who I'm looking at.

I had been expecting Shigeru to answer, or perhaps even his wife Julia. However, I find a little girl, her watchful brown eyes an exact replica of Shigeru's. Her hair is thick and wavy, black as pen ink, ending at approximately her mid-back. It was pulled up into two ponytails on either side of the back of her head, and her bangs were cut to pleasingly frame her oval face.

"Hi," she says shyly, an adorable bashful smile creeping up onto her face. My heart melts at her sweetness, and already I feel better than before.

"Hello," I reply, smiling brightly myself. "Are you Mahoka?" I'm guessing whether it is Mahoka or Midori; I have a fifty-fifty chance of being right.

"Nnhm; Madelaine." Her voice is soft and light, and she shyly giggles as she replies. She looks off-screen and shouts, "Marguarite! _Telephone_!"

I try telling her no, that I was looking for her father instead, but it is too late. Soon two similar faces are pressed up to the video screen, both looking at me as if I am an interesting animal at the zoo; the girls climb onto the counter in order to get a closer look at me. I notice that Mahoka's hair is a similar color to her father's, albeit containing more of a reddish tint than Shigeru's. She has it swept up into ponytails similar to her sister, and I can see that her eyes are actually blue in color, not the chocolate shade of her father's. They must be fraternal twins, not exactly identical.

"Who are you?" Mahoka asks innocently, draping herself sleepily onto her sister's shoulders. Midori's face screws up in annoyance, but she doesn't push her away. I realize that I must have woken them up, and I feel a twinge of guilt for doing so.

"My name is Satoshi. I'm sorry if I woke you, but I was wondering if your dad–"

"Dad's out of the house right now," Midori interrupts, seemingly aware of the end of my sentence.

"Mom's home though," Mahoka adds. She leans closer to the screen, cupping her small hands around her delicate mouth. She whispers to me, "She and Dad were fighting again."

"Marguarite, Don't tell him _that_," Midori hisses, elbowing her sister lightly in the arm. She looks at me with mistrust, as if I would dare to be rude about her parents' situation.

"Are you a friend of Daddy's?" Mahoka continues innocently, ignoring her upset sister. Her eyes lid slightly, but I can see that she's overcoming her tiredness.

I nod in response. "I was just calling to see if he–"

"You're the Master, right? I saw your picture on TV a couple of days ago," Mahoka interrupts. She smiles widely at me, and I can see most of her tiny, pearly white teeth in that grin.

"Of _course _he is," Midori intrudes, rolling her eyes. I begin responding, but I am cut off once again.

"Do you have monsters with you right now? Can I see them?"

"Is Dad a good trainer? Did he have any rare monsters?"

"Are you going to come visit us sometime? I want to see the Master in person…."

My head is spinning with all the questions they are firing at me, eager for my replies. I begin to chuckle, watching the two girls fight playfully to be the closest to the screen, their faces split into identical grins from ear to ear. I gesture for them to calm down and talk more slowly. However, as I do so, both girls stop talking and look towards someone who just entered the room. It is off-screen so I can't tell who it is until they walk up behind the girls. I hear a voice ask who the girls are talking to.

And this is how I meet Julia, Shigeru's dreaded wife.

Julia sweeps the girls off the counter in front of the video screen, motioning for them to go back to bed. Both girls chime sweetly goodbye to me before leaving, pressing their tiny hands against the screen so I would know they are waving to me. Julia waits until they are out of the room before returning her attention to me.

Sitting down at the counter, she appears disinterested in speaking with me. "You are Satoshi, aren't you?" she asks abruptly, giving no greetings or introductions of her own. She watches me warily, and I wonder what, in our brief encounter, I have already done in order to receive such an icy stare. I nervously nod my head again, unable to speak. I feel a knot form in my stomach, and I try to will myself to be calm.

"Sorry if I woke your daughters, but I–"

"Where is my husband?" she interjects, wasting no time.

This takes me by surprise. "I don't know, Mrs. Ookido. I haven't seen him in over two days."

She raises her eyebrows, unconvinced. "I know he's been staying at your house for a while, Satoshi." Julia crosses her arms across her chest, watching me apprehensively. Her hair is long and straight, sweeping down to her mid back. Unlike her daughters, she had no bangs herself, and the style accents a harsh contrast between her pale skin and dark hair. Her voice is laced with annoyance. "If you have no information of his whereabouts then we have nothing further to discuss."

I feel indignant with her tone of voice. What the hell had I done to make her dislike me so much? "Excuse my frankness, _Julia_," I say, disdainfully spewing her name, "but what exactly did you do to make Shigeru leave without even a hint to where he was going?"

Her pale cheeks gain a touch of crimson, and she flinches back from her seat as if burned. She glares at me even more fiercely, a twinge of hurt visible in her grey-blue eyes. "I don't need your judgment or your snide remarks," she retorts. "You have _no_ idea what I'm going through; if it wasn't for you, we wouldn't even bein this situation."

I begin to ask her to explain herself, but before I can she disconnects her end of the conversation, a vicious _click_ being the last thing I heard from her. I'm left sitting in front of the blank video screen, wondering what exactly she was talking about. I decide that I don't _really_ want to know – not yet – and I slowly put the phone book away.

I cough violently into my hands again and mull over what medications I have upstairs in the bathroom cabinet. As I head to bed, I think about Shigeru's disappearance from his home, and I vaguely wonder where he is. I push the thought quickly out of my mind; after all, I was trying to stop thinking about him, wasn't I? I should have known better than to try calling him; it was just going to drag Shigeru back in to my life….

I find that, even though I was upset about how Julia had spoken to me, I was actually grateful to have made the call. Mahoka and Midori's innocent and childish ways were a welcome change to what I generally see, and I was calmed by how comfortable they immediately felt talking with me. Normally, when someone realizes that I'm the current Master, they all of a sudden become falsely respectful and suck-up to me, but not Shigeru's daughters. They had spoken to me with the eagerness I remembered having as a child, enthusiastic to start out on my journey. They weren't intimidated by my position or title, and it was a nice variation to see.

Standing in the centre of my moonlit bedroom, I begin to pull off my day-clothes and swap them for pajamas, but almost immediately I reconsider. I feel restless and too alert to go to sleep yet; I make the decision to go for a late-night walk, ignoring another coughing spasm that hits me. The thunder I had heard earlier was no longer sounding in the sky; I suppose the storm wasn't as serious as I anticipated, and it had dissipated over the city during my telephone call. I trek downstairs again and put on my coat and shoes, locking the door as I leave.

I settle on heading to the nearby park for my walk. Not many people are around, which is good because I feel like being alone with my thoughts. I smile to a nearby couple walking a young Iibui, and they politely smile back as they pass. The ground is slick with fresh rainwater, confirming my belief that a light storm had come and gone without my knowledge.

The air is crisp and cool on my sore throat, and I'm grateful for having grabbed my coat before heading out the door. In less than twenty minutes I've reached the park, taking my time as I walk. I stop at the gate by the entrance and glance over the park before I make my way in.

There are few streetlamps within the confines of the iron gates; they give off a warm glow that reflects dimly off the many puddles of water along the grass and walkways. I assume very few people have been here in the last few weeks, for the rain has likely made everything too soggy to be enjoyed by the regular park-goers.

I decide that I will walk along the paved path and reach the Tosakinto pond at the park's centre before doubling back. I head out, glancing into the darkness between the trees as I go, alert for any sign of movement. My breath is shallow and irregular; I'm hit again by a spell of coughs due to the amount of walking I've done, and it becomes necessary for me to stop and catch my breath at the next resting place. Ahead of me is a thick hedge, grown up to the middle of my chest, and I recall seeing bench around the corner that I can use. I quicken my pace a fraction and close the distance.

I nearly leap out of my skin as I take the corner, for I see someone sitting on the bench already, a large bag by their feet. I must startle them as well, because I see them jolt in their seat, their hand flying to their chest as if to stop their heart from bounding out of it. My pulse races and I feel like shouting at the person, asking what the hell they were doing hiding out in the park so late at night. But I abruptly identify who it sitting there, and the words catch up in my throat.

"Satoshi?" He breathes out my name anxiously, and I feel my heartbeat pounding in my chest and ears, the blood rushing through me.

"What the hell are you doing out here, Shigeru?!" I shout, my nerves are still wired and angry, he had frightened me so badly.

"I could ask you the same thing," Shigeru retorts distractedly, hastily rubbing his hand across his brow beneath his hood. His eyes, I notice, are puffy and red-rimmed. My annoyance subsides at the sight. He releases a shaky sigh, not looking at me, choosing instead to stare at the ground and tighten his collar around his neck.

"You really scared me," I say more calmly this time, my pulse slowly returning to normal.

"Sorry," he mumbles absentmindedly, his gaze shifting everywhere but at me. He looks disorientated and uncertain of his surroundings.

"Shigeru, what's wrong?" I ask softly. I look at the large luggage bag at his feet, recalling how his wife had said she didn't know where Shigeru was. I wonder if he had been outside during the prior storm; he looked drenched, his rain-proof coat and hood acting as the only things that kept him from being soaked to the bone. "What are you doing out here this late? Are you all right?"

Shigeru pushes his hood back as he looks at me; my chest feels a sudden ache. He stands from his seat on the bench, taking a few shuffling steps towards me. "Not particularly, no," he chokes out, his voice sounding thick and raw. "I'm not okay."

"Did something happen while you were home?"

Shigeru doesn't voice an answer. His gaze once again averts to anywhere but towards me.

Struggling to remain calm, I repeat, "What are you here this time of night?"

Shigeru smiles mirthlessly and shakes his head. "Trying to figure out my next step. What to do."

I groan, frowning at his obstinacy; he isn't making sense. I had to find some way to get Shigeru to talk. Finally, I come up with an idea. Reaching down, I cough and take hold of his luggage and start walking.

"What're you doing?" Shigeru blurts, suddenly attentive to my actions.

"C'mon, it's freezing out here." I gesture a thumb over my shoulder, pointing towards a gate to our right. "Let's go the pub nearby."

Shigeru frowns, as if trying to decipher my words. "I didn't think you drank much."

"If it'll get you to talk, I'll drink." When Shigeru stares at me, confused, I give him a wry smile. "Well, you don't seem to talk much of your own accord. Might as well enlist alcohol to help."

"Ridiculous," Shigeru scoffs, shaking his head in an occupied fashion. "What if I don't want to talk?"

I give him a serious look. "Nothing's going to get better unless you talk about it."

"Talking about it hasn't always worked out for me."

I bite my tongue to keep from responding. I decide to take his lack of protests as an affirmation of my plan, and so I set off along the path to our right. Shigeru, I'm pleased to see, follows slowly behind, lost in his own thoughts. I barely hear him when he mumbles, "So what d'you want me to talk about?"

I slow my pace, allowing Shigeru to catch up beside me. Fighting back a coughing spasm, I reply, "Everything. The truth about the divorce, what's been going on with it." I pause before adding, "What's been eating away at you the entire time you were living with me."

"Aww, Sato," Shigeru drones sarcastically, "I didn't think you cared." His tone sobering suddenly, he says, "You couldn't wait to get rid of me before."

I flinch, feeling a guilty stab snake its way through my chest. "I made a mistake."

Shigeru seems to drop his guard ever so slightly. A moment passes before he finally says, "What you're asking me, to tell you what's going on with me and Jules…you don't want to know. You really don't want to get involved."

"Let me decide that once you've told me everything there's to know."

"Everything?" Shigeru sounds skeptical and, I realize with a surprise, nervous.

Shigeru glances away, considering what I ask of him. I didn't think it is too big of a demand, but he seems very averse to the idea of talking to me. A minute passes before he finally nods in agreement. "I guess I can do that," he replies, chewing thoughtfully on his lower lip, his voice sounding clear and resolved in his position.

"Good," I say emphatically.

Shigeru still appears disbelieving. "You won't like what I'll tell you…."

"I'm sure that won't be the case," I answer in turn. "I want to know everything about our years apart, Shigeru: about you and Julia, your daughters, and especially about what is disturbing you." I look him forthrightly in the face, but he still avoids my gaze.

"It hurts to see you looking so miserable all the time," I say seriously, and I surprise myself by how much I mean it.

He slowly looks into my eyes, as if to confirm his belief that I was lying to him. When Shigeru sees the sincerity on my face, he seems to calm slightly against his rising fears. He nods wordlessly and I smile, feeling better than I had in a long time.

Shigeru moves to take back his soaked luggage from me but I stop him. He mutters that I don't need to carry it for him, and I reply that he doesn't need to complain about having some help. Except for a momentary coughing fit on my part, we arrive at the pub in silence, side by side in the cool late-night air.

Shigeru avoids looking directly at me as we enter the warmly lit tavern, the sounds of jovial people echoing into the cold night air as we open the door. The bright glow of the pub's neon signs bothers my eyes, and I cough deeply into my free hand several times as we make our way towards a private booth near the back. I struggle with the suitcase in my other hand; by now it feels bulky and heavy, and he must have enough clothes packed to be away from home for days. I suppose Shigeru had been planning to be gone that long, perhaps even longer…

Only once we're sitting at the table and have ordered our first bout of drinks, does Shigeru appear to have regained his standard, cool confidence. "I'm sorry," he says quietly, a hue of shame in his voice, "for losing control back there. In the park." He doesn't look at me as he says this.

I can't think of anything to say, so I remain quiet. Our drinks arrive, and Shigeru sets onto his pint with surprising speed. He leans his elbows onto the table, his head propped on one arm and staring at the table as he plays with an old coaster. I nurse my beverage slowly, deciding it would be beneficial to me if I lagged behind Shigeru in our drinking.

Clearing his throat, he says, "I-I don't really know where to start from, Satoshi. I don't know how much of it you want me to tell you."

"Talk until you feel better," I reply, my hand propping up my head. I didn't want him to have a set amount of information he had to tell me; I wanted him to speak until he no longer felt like speaking. "Start where you want to and get everything off your chest, Shigeru; you look like you're holding the weight of the world on your shoulders."

Shigeru concurs desolately, and I know he doesn't believe what I've said. It feels like hours have passed before he finally takes his hands down from his mouth and starts talking.

-0-0-0-0-

I got this chapter up in a mad-dash before leaving on vacation; again, apologies if there are spelling errors in this un-betaed mess of mine. Grand thanks to all reviewers; seriously, you have no idea how much you brighten my day! And sorry for the unfulfilling ending to this chapter, but the word count was edging onto five thousand and it is the only place I could put a break for the next one. Read and review, as always, please.


	7. Chapter Seven

Author's Note: Firstly, this chapter contains some discrepancies that divulge from the television series; they are minor but I hope you won't mind them much because I don't want to change them. :) Secondly, the girl who defeated Shigeru in the Seikei League, her English name was Melissa. However, in Japanese, her name was Yoshiki and she was a boy. Hm. For the sake of this story, I've modified her name to Yukiko and kept her a girl. Lastly, since it was mentioned in a review, I will clarify that Tokusane is Mossdeep in Hoenn, Nibi is Pewter City in Kanto, the Seikei League is the Indigo League from first/second season, and Kenji is Tracey; I'll try to state the names when I use them.

Disclaimer: I do not own Pokemon or its characters. The story is a work of fiction and in no way shall money be made from this endeavor. Unauthorized reproduction or copying of this fiction is not allowed (aka do not copy/post/save to your hard drive or elsewhere).

Melody of a Memory  
By Leika Lai

Chapter Seven

Although our booth resides near the back, the pub around us remains boisterous and bustling with activity; its patrons are raucous and enjoying the evening to its fullest. And while it isn't the type of scene I enjoy, I am pleased that the noise gives Shigeru and I natural cover from any potential eavesdroppers. Not that anyone would recognize either of us in this place; it is just a small comfort to know we could talk freely.

Shigeru sighs, roughly pushing his hand through his hair. He has been ignoring me for the fifteen minutes we've been sitting in this booth, seemingly lost within his thoughts. His hands shift between clasping in front of his mouth and fiddling with the handle of his pint, turning the sweating glass back and forth on the table.

"This is awkward," he says finally, his glass continuing its never-ending rotation.

"You're kidding," I smirk. I lean back into the banquette, trying to act more casual than I feel. My glass sits on a coaster in front of me, barely touched in the past silent minutes.

Shigeru grins and shakes his head deprecatingly. Bringing his glass to his lips, he murmurs over the top of his drink, "There's no way I can just jump into this whole…_thing_. I haven't talked to anybody about it, 'cept Yukiko…."

"Who?" I ask, latching onto the off topic.

Shigeru sets down his drink, frowning as he swallows. "D'you remember the Seikei League, the first year we both qualified to compete in it?" Vaguely, I recall the green-haired girl. When I nod in agreement, he grins wryly and continues, "Yukiko was the trainer I lost to."

I stare at him, confused. "Why the hell would you talk to her about all of this?"

Shigeru chuckles. "Believe it or not, she and I were good friends by time the Seikei League crowned its victor for the year."

"And you still talk to her?"

"Mhmm." Sipping slowly, he says, "Not every month, but about that much. She's probably my closest friend as of late. I mean, you had that girlfriend Kasumi, right? Yukiko would probably be her equivalent, 'cept she and I never dated."

My face has flushed red at his words. "Kasumi and I never dated each other. We were always just…friends," I finish lamely.

"But I remember reading in the papers...." Shigeru's eyebrow tilts upwards, his interest piqued. "What about that other girl, Haruka? I always thought, y'know–"

"No," I say flatly, cutting off his speculations. His words evoke memories about how, just after receiving the Master title, the tabloids and newspapers alike analyzed the relationships I had with my female travel companions. For me, even considering my friends romantically is distressing.

My face must be twisted into a horrified expression because Shigeru laughs and shakes his head at me. "Anyways," he says, "Yukiko has…helped me through more than one tough point in my life." I wonder what Shigeru means by this cryptic statement.

We fall into a conversational lull, as I'm unable to think of some constructive comment to encourage him to talk. My chest and head hurt from my all-too-existent cold, decreasing my socializing skills. Shigeru doesn't seem to mind, though; he simply ignores me, finishes his drink and signals the bar for another.

Once he's made his way through half of his new drink, I decide to ask, "Can you tell me how you and Julia met, Shigeru?" I'm worried Shigeru hasn't yet loosened up enough to willingly respond.

Thankfully, though, the trait of Shigeru I recall most from our teen years – that showman's flair he possesses – seems to reappear while he's under the influence. He casually waves his hand, signaling he'll talk once he sets his glass down.

"I met Jules at the university," Shigeru says finally, swallowing a heavy gulp from his new brew. He rests his head against his knuckles, the same hand holding the pint around its lip. I look up from the table cautiously, not wanting to scare Shigeru away from continuing. Shigeru, though, seems to not be paying any attention to me.

"We both studied here in Tokusane," he says as if reciting lines for a play. "I chose this city's university after completing my field work on reanimating fossils. At the time, I was a little too young for the program, but the dean changed his mind about my admission once he knew who I was the grandson off." Shigeru scoffs and half-smiles, "Sometimes I wonder if that's the only reason why."

"You're smart, Shigeru," I blurt, ignoring my vow to stay silent and let him talk. Shigeru, though, ignores me in turn. He doesn't seem to hear me; he continues talking, his tone the thrill equivalent of having teeth pulled.

Sighing, Shigeru says, "I met Julia in a class we shared, and we had hit it off fairly well. She knew me through her mother's contacts – her mum's a researcher in Nibi who's worked with my grandfather many years earlier. Julia was obviously smitten with me, but I…was not," he finishes lamely, leaving me to fill in the gaps. I don't know how to, though.

"Julia was insistent in taking our friendship further, and I went on a few dates to keep her happy, but it was nothing I took seriously." Shigeru grimaces, as if deciding how much more to say. "I liked her as a close friend, but not much more than that. However, one day I received a phone call from my grandfather and…well, that's when things started taking a turn for the worse.

"He heard, via Julia's mum, that we had gone on several dates, and he was wondering if it was serious or not. I could tell, from the way he talked, he encouraged the idea. A few conversations later, I asked him why he was pressuring me so badly to date her. My grandfather, he didn't come outright and say it, but he did hint that he was worried why I'd never had a serious girlfriend...."

This catches me by surprise; I would have thought, even in his teenage years, that Shigeru would have been swamped with women to date, maybe even had one or two as a serious partner. He even had those cheerleaders who followed him across Kanto…. I hesitate to ask him about it.

"I didn't know what to say to him," Shigeru continues, unaware of my inner pondering. "And I was scared. I didn't want everyone to _know_, to see me the way my grandfather was suggesting, so I covered up for it as best I could."

Shigeru chuckles, but the sound is hollow and mirthless. "My relationship with Julia 'miraculously' improved during university, and I proposed to her in our final year. I really did care about her but," he says. His tone drops suddenly. "But I knew it wasn't love that I was feeling."

"Shigeru," I interrupt, hesitant I should even begin to formulate my question. "I don't understand what you mean. How – is that what made you leave Julia today? Because you don't love her?"

Shigeru, for once, pays heed to me and doesn't seem to mind my sudden segue. He grunts and shakes his head. "Nothing out of the ordinary made me leave today," he says, chewing his lower lip thoughtfully. "She wasn't any worse than usual, but nothing's changed between us to make it better."

"So you just left?" I frown, still not understanding. "I thought you guys were trying to work things out."

"You don't know what it's like when the two of us are stuck together. We don't have common ground; you have no idea what we're going through."

Shigeru's words eerily echo what Julia said to me not four hours ago. I say stubbornly, "So enlighten me. Tell me why it won't work between you two."

From his languid body language, I can tell Shigeru's drinks were starting to take effect. His showman's charisma overpowers his desire to keep secrets, and so Shigeru sighs dramatically and leans back. Resting his head against the booth, he mutters, "I already tried to tell you." I give him a confused look, so he states in a clear and bored tone, "I already tried telling you why Jules and I will never work out."

"When?"

"The other night."

I scoff. "I think I'd remember a confession like that."

Shigeru laughs, but his tone again contains no humor. "Oh, Satoshi. You do." Taking his glass into his hand, Shigeru brings it to his mouth but does not drink. "It's what made you all too eager to be rid of me."

I frown at him and lean forward on my elbows. "I don't understand."

"Then I'll enlighten you."

In a lithe movement too quick and accurate for his sobriety level, Shigeru sets down his glass and leans across the table. He slips his right hand behind my neck and pulls me towards him. For a brief moment, I recall the night he kissed me and I relive the thrill I had felt. But Shigeru doesn't repeat himself; his mouth moves to my right ear, his cheek pressed against mine as he quickly whispers, "I like men more than I like women."

As soon as he finishes his sentence, Shigeru lets me go and settles into his seat, his hands returning to fiddle with his glass as if nothing has happened. Bringing it slowly to his lips, he says, "That's why Jules hates me so much."

My heart is pounding erratically in my chest, and I barely heard his words as a coughing bout strikes me. I don't know what to say, so I blurt the first thing that comes to mind. "Since when?"

Shigeru laughs and shakes his head. When he doesn't respond, I continue, "I'm serious. What makes you think that?"

"How about my first crush was on a boy?" Shigeru gives me a wry look that makes my stomach uneasy. "I mean, c'mon. When did you first know you liked girls, Sato?"

I don't reply, mostly because I don't know what he means; I'd never had such a revelation. Instead, I ignore his question and say, "And that's it?"

"That's everything," Shigeru replies emphatically, slouching back in his seat. "That little-known fact is the bane of my existence." He picks up his drink again. "You wanted to know why I was so upset in the park, right?" I nod, and he says, "It wasn't because of _her_. Mostly, I was upset about how jumpy _you_'ve been around me ever since that stupid kiss."

My mind must still be in shock; I don't understand his words. Shigeru must interpret my silence correctly because he explains, "The fact that you were so weirded out by me, that you couldn't wait to have me leave…. It, I don't know, _confirmed_ my hunch that you didn't – or wouldn't – take my 'big news' very well. I figured I'd lost you for good this time."

"I didn't know what you had meant by the kiss…" I mumble, embarrassed to even be discussing it. I wouldn't have had the courage to hardly mention the subject if Shigeru wasn't such a sociable drunk. "I thought you were trying to confuse me."

"How was that kiss so earth-shattering to you? It was barely a peck." Shigeru idly waves his hand across the table. "It was just a shorthand version of this conversation."

"Except…."

"Except I scared the hell out of you instead," Shigeru finishes solemnly. He suddenly has a puzzled look on his face. "Why were you so freaked out?"

I hold my tongue, unable to accurately explain the knots I had felt in my stomach after the kiss. I clear my throat and try to avoid explaining myself; fortunately Shigeru's inebriation allows me to sidestep tricky questions with relative ease. I ask, "Who all knows this about you?"

"Yukiko, Jules." Shigeru waves his hand dismissively. "It's not something I openly discuss."

"What about your sister? Your grandfather, o-or Kenji?"

Shigeru frowns. "Why would you think I'd tell Kenji?"

"I thought he was, y'know, too…." I can feel the blush creeping across my cheeks as I speak. During our travels, Kasumi and I had secretly shared our mutual suspicions about Kenji's preferences.

"I dunno, d'you really think Kenji's my type?" Shigeru says, leaning seriously on the table. I look up at him quickly, hoping I didn't offend him. When I see a coy smirk on his face, I realize he's being sarcastic.

"What? D'you have something against brunettes?" I reply with mock-offense.

Shigeru laughs and shakes his head, his gaze dropping shyly to the table. "I never said that."

Chuckling as I imitate Shigeru's behaviour, I take a sip of my lukewarm beer. I can't believe I never realized Shigeru was…and his grandfather didn't even know, and now Shigeru had confessed to me…. So many questions are coming to mind that I want to ask, this first of which seems the most obvious.

"Shigeru, if you've always felt like that, then," I pause, trying to figure out a tactful way to continue the question. It would be rude, I suppose, to point out the strange choice to marry Julia. I falter in my words and instead ask bluntly, "How did Julia find out about you?"

I hope that Shigeru will continue his drunken, charismatic behaviour. On this topic, though, he falls decidedly silent. His gaze dropping glumly to the table, Shigeru merely says, "That's too long of a story for tonight."

He looks so sad that I am hesitant to ask, "You'll tell me some other time?"

"We'll see."

Shigeru sighs and stretches his back as he looks outside of our booth. I follow his gaze and see that the pub had been slowly emptying of its patrons; the loud and vibrant environment we arrived in has dropped to a lull. Suddenly our conversation doesn't seem so private anymore.

Shigeru thoughts seem to mimic my own. He says, "We should go. It's really late."

I spot the clock on the wall. Nodding silently, I toss back the last of my drink. We gather our coats and Shigeru grabs his luggage bag from beneath the table. I quickly fish out my wallet and leave enough bills to cover our tab. As I pull on my jacket, I'm hit by a vicious string of coughs.

"You okay?" Shigeru asks quietly. He's not so drunk he can't stand, but Shigeru has a tiny sway to his posture.

"I'll be fine," I mutter and wave my hand dismissively. As we exit the warm tavern into the cool night air, I ask, "So where're you planning on staying, now that you're not at home?"

Shigeru sighs, blowing his cheeks out dramatically. "No clue. I left home before supper, took a cab to a kitschy restaurant nearby. I started wandering the area, trying to think, but I ended up by your home somehow."

"You can stay again," I say quickly, the words rushing out before he can ask and I can second-guess them. "That is, if you want to."

Shigeru stands quietly beside me, as if oblivious to my offer, and I'm uncertain if he'll respond. Finally he says, "I didn't think you wanted me to; I'm nothing but a burden on you."

"That's not true," I say hastily. Sheepishly I add, "I…I was out of line, the way I was behaving. I shouldn't have pushed for you to leave when you obviously weren't ready. Please stay."

The corner of Shigeru's mouth upturns ever so slightly, and I instantly see that I've won him over. He says softly, "Thank you. I'd really like that." My cheeks feel warm, embarrassed by his gratitude.

We start our walk back to my house and the air feels crisp and refreshing against my flushed cheeks. I watch Shigeru walk from the corner of my eye, amused by how he sways side to side as he swings his suitcase. I haven't seen Shigeru this casual in years, let alone ever in an inebriated state. He was bound to be less secretive than on the average day…. Musing to myself, I figure I might as well use the situation to my advantage.

"Shigeru?" I begin. He glances at me questioningly.

Wavering only briefly, I start mischievously, "So, if you've always liked men–"

"–more than women," he interjects, mumbling to himself, "a lot more."

"–more than women from the get-go," I continue, a hint of playfulness in my tone, "then what were those cheerleaders of yours for?"

"Beards," Shigeru says simply. "All six of 'em." I look at him incredulously, wondering if he's serious. When I catch his mock-somber expression, his inebriation breaking the complete illusion, I burst out laughing.

"And that Hawaiian shirt you wore on vacation in Guren Islands?" I say teasingly.

"A covert signal to like-minded individuals." Shigeru gives me a tipsy, knowing look, as if it helped explain anything.

"What about when you used to call me _Satoshi-kun __or __jari-booi_?" I stick my tongue out. "Were you flirting with me whenever you said that?"

Shigeru raises his eyebrow demurely. "I think you sometimes hear what you want to hear, Sato."

I cough-laugh and shake my head deprecatingly. When he's acting this droll I have to assume he's lying to me, but I can't hold it against him. I want to continue this little game of ours.

"Who was that first crush of yours, Geru?" I say. I can't help but pry; this is one subject I'm curious to know the truth about.

But when Shigeru doesn't give me a quick, flippant response, I am surprised to find him warily looking at me. "C'mon," I add quietly when he remains silent, an awkward calm brimming between us. "You can tell me. I won't judge."

"It's private," Shigeru says softly, his gaze shifting away. "I don't want to discuss it."

We fall quiet, our game having abruptly ended. I clear my throat, trying to find something else to talk about. The only topic on my mind, though, was Shigeru's confession.

"Shigeru, did…your orientation have anything to do why we stopped being friends?"

I don't know why I thought of it; it just seems like the two could be related. If Shigeru was confused as an adolescent, he might've, I don't know, taken it out on others. Namely, me.

"No," Shigeru says quietly, his breath hitching as he says it.

"Then what –?" I begin, but he cuts me off with a wave of his hand. I'm instantly suspicious, but I don't have the time to press him further. He stops and turns to his side. I halt beside Shigeru, having just noticed that we've reached my mailbox. "We're here," is all he says.

"C'mon," I reply, unlocking the door and stepping into the dark hall. Fumbling for the light switch, I say, "Damn, it's–" I glance at the clock "–past three in the morning. I think I better catch some sleep before the sun rises in a couple hours." Shigeru smiles faintly and kicks off his shoes, setting his luggage on the ground as he removes his coat. I have another coughing spasm as I clasp his bag and walk towards the stairs. He goes towards the basement door, but I motion for him to follow.

"But, I thought you'd–" Shigeru begins confusedly, pointing his thumb vaguely over his shoulder at the basement stairwell.

I shake my head. "I felt bad for you having to stay in that grimy basement, so I cleaned out the spare bedroom a couple days ago. I didn't think you'd be coming back, but I still…. It has a double bed in it, which is better than that old twin downstairs; you can stay up here, if you like."

"You sure it's not going to be a problem?" he asks.

I shrug. "I don't see why it would be." Shigeru nods and walks up the stairs beside me.

The spare bedroom is near the end of the hall, between the bathroom and my room at the very end. I drag the suitcase and toss it onto the bed, breathing heavily from the strenuous exercise. I fight back another spasm as Shigeru wanders around the modest room, glancing at the near-vacant closet and maple dresser as he passes them. "That's me on the end–" I tell him, thumbing at the hallway, "–and the bathroom you already know about. Once again, towels are in the linen closet right across the hallway."

Shigeru nods as I tell him this, his gaze averted to the rug at the bed's foot rather than at me. "Thank you," he says quietly, and I think he means about the room. "For listening with an open mind, Satoshi; I didn't think you would, I thought I screwed it up with that kis– but I do feel better now. And thanks again for letting me stay…."

I grin, folding my arms behind my head. "Seriously, it's no problem, Shigeru. You can stay as long as you like; I don't mind."

"So things are okay between us? Nothing's changed?"

"Nope," I reply, "Everything's still fine." Shigeru nods, obviously relieved, and smiles a bit himself. He looks tired and relaxed, probably due to the alcohol he had consumed. I sensed a pounding headache approaching him in the morning….

A sudden vicious bout of coughs hits me, rattling throughout my chest cavity. My eyes pinch shut tight from the effort. When I open them, I see Shigeru is watching me with concern. "Are you sure you're okay, Satoshi?"

"Yeah," I choke out, wincing and rubbing my burning chest. "It's nothing; don't worry." He nods simplistically, accepting my answer. I don't think my coughing really registered with his buzzed mind.

I wave goodnight and shut his door behind me. Walking to my bedroom I have to pause as yet another fit hits me, this one the worst so far. My head pounds from the pressure building up inside it and an involuntary groan escapes my lips. I close my door quietly after me, listening as the tumbler clicks into place, and I change for bed. Crawling between the cool sheets, my mind is reeling with the events of the day.

I turn over in my bed and hit my pillow to ruffle it, trying to get comfortable. A chill runs through me as another spasm hits, and I double over on my side from the convulsions; my head pounding from the built-up strain, my lungs feel thick and painful as I breathe in with difficulty. Even with how sick I feel, it doesn't take me long to fall asleep, perhaps by passing out from fatigue.

----------

That night was filled with my violent coughing fits and a bizarre jumble of dreams. They faded in and out of each other, each surreal and soothing in their own ways. Tossing and turning fretfully, I mumble unintelligibly, my brow furrowed and strained before I finally fall deathly still. The night must become the day; the next time I awaken I see light streaming through the window blinds. My eyes sting and I am forced to close them. When I reopen them, there is darkness again and I blurrily think time must have passed once more.

At one point, I don't know when, I dreamt that Shigeru had entered my room, calling my name quietly. I was lying in bed, groggily encased in a cushion of blankets. He crossed the room and sat down beside me, the bed comfortably relaxing beneath his weight. He was looking at me intently, and through my half-lidded eyes I saw him as if within a haze. Even through the cloudiness of my vision I could make out the warm brown color of his eyes. His eyelashes were long and dark, and I feel a shiver of repressed desire pass through my tired body as I look at him. Shigeru's hair hung in russet wisps, coiling around his face and enticingly into his eyes. He leans closer, urgently repeating my name. I could barely hear him through the fog in my head.

Shigeru leans over me, his chest pressing lightly against my own, and his is face so close that I can feel his breath on my lips and chin. His hand pushes tenderly aside the damp hair on my brow and he presses his forehead against my own. I close my eyes and quietly moan, his breath tickling my cheeks and mouth now. I'm half-asleep and I relinquish control over myself, deciding to indulge in this style of dream for once. I tilt my chin upwards, pressing my mouth to his with slow pleasure. I sigh softly again, moving my lips weakly against his still mouth. I feel Shigeru's hands move to my shoulders and gently pry me away, but I can barely open my eyes to see what was wrong. He was speaking to me, but the words were muddled. I faintly identify "…_burning up_…_calling an ambulance_…" before I close my eyes and hear no more.

-0-0-0-0-

Boooo. Again, I suck at finding breaking points in the chapters. But I'd rather end on an exciting note than on the long-and-dreary 'blah' that I tend towards :P Read and review, as per the usual please. Reading your comments from last chapter was a delightful perk to my day and to my creative spirits.

Have I mentioned lately that the lot of you rock? Because you do.


	8. Chapter Eight

Author's Note: I'm not an expert on medicine, but I've had my fair share of hospital trips. At any rate, all factual errors in the chapter are my own. (_I'm a writer, damnit, not a doctor!_) Boo. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: I do not own Pokemon or its characters. The story is a work of fiction and in no way shall money be made from this endeavor. Unauthorized reproduction or copying of this fiction is not allowed (aka do not copy/post/save to your hard drive or elsewhere).

Melody of a Memory  
By Leika Lai

Chapter Eight

When I awake, I'm lying in a half-upright bed that I don't recognize. I don't have to open my eyes to know I'm not at home; I feel light blankets on top of me, so different than the mounds of comforters on my own bed. My eyelids feel heavy and do not respond immediately when I try to open them. I hear an occasional beeping noise, and when I move my arm I feel a sharp twinge of pain from something in the back of my hand. Groggily I open my eyes and take in my surroundings.

What I see is a curtained room that appears to glow in vivid white. The walls are covered with sterile ceramic tile and are completely devoid of artwork or color of any kind. On my right I hear a machine producing noises, and I see an intravenous tube running from my hand to its drip above; I recognize this as what caused the pain when I moved my arm. A breezy white curtain separates me from the rest of the room, hiding the doors to the bathroom and hall from my view.

I shut my eyes and blearily groan, waiting for my body to wake up more fully. My head is clearer than earlier, but I still have a heavy ache in my chest and a dull throb sprouting in my skull as I try to sit up.

A voice resounds from beside me. "You're awake."

I reopen my eyes and look to my right, towards the voice I had heard. I find Shigeru sitting in a chair next to the intravenous machine, resting the upper half of his body on the bed beside me. His face is tucked into the crook of his crossed arms and he peers at me over his elbow, looking about as tired as I feel.

"How are you feeling?" Shigeru asks, his voice low and smooth from slumber.

"Like shit," I mumble, rubbing my free hand across my brow. "What time is it?"

Yawning, Shigeru closes his eyes and says, "Early. Visiting hours must've started only an hour ago."

"Were you here all night?" I ask.

Shigeru chuckles and shakes his head, propping his chin up on his forearm. "I'm here 'til they kick me out, and that depends on who's on duty."

His words don't make sense to me, so I ignore them. Instead I ask, "I'm in a private ward? How're you allowed to stay?"

"Because I am super-fantastic."

I roll my eyes. "Be serious."

Shigeru sighs and rolls his eyes as well. "Hanako said I could have visiting privileges in her place. It's not perfect, but…it helps."

"What's…wrong with me?" My voice is sore from little use, coming out as little more than a croak. Carefully I slide my hand across the bedspread; if I've remained steadily unconscious, then I'm worried I must be seriously ill.

Shigeru notices my hand and rests his atop it inattentively. "I think its pneumonia," he says. His voice gains a sour edge as he adds, "The doctors don't tell me a damned thing."

I nod slowly; visiting privileges doesn't equate to having patient confidentiality, I suppose.

Suddenly I hear voices coming from a nearby room, urgent and upset. Shigeru stretches and straightens in his chair, frowning at the door behind the curtain. I can make out what the voices are saying but only barely, so I close my eyes again to better focus on listening to their words. Both voices are male; the first voice sounds vaguely whiny and juvenile, while the second has a tone of authority the first lacks.

"Let me in to see him!"

"Absolutely not_._ This is a private ward. Only immediate family members are allowed."

"The public has a right to know how the Master is doing! Can't you give any insights to his condition?"

"Without his written or verbal approval? On no account. Nurse–" the authoritative voice addresses a third person "–kindly escort this man to the front entrance."

"You can't do that!"

A scuffle of shoes follows, and some indistinguishable shouting from the first voice is uttered before fading away. I might imagine it, but I hear the second voice mumble angrily beneath his breath as his footsteps lead to my room.

Shigeru seems to know who is coming; he promptly vacates his seat, leaving so quickly that I hardly realize it. He stretches as he moves to the opposite side of my bed, giving room for whoever is coming. Sleepily I open my eyes as the stranger approaches, appearing from behind the flimsy dividing curtain.

"I see we're finally awake," he says dryly, glancing over me with a casual eye. "How long have you been up?"

Shigeru clears his throat. "He hasn't been awake for more than ten minutes."

At first glance, the stranger is approximately fifty years old; his hair is grey and thinning, and deep wrinkles cut through his face on his forehead and around his eyes. His white lab coat is immaculate and accented with a deep red tie buried within the lapel. Wire glasses perch on his nose and he glances over the charts at the end of my bed.

I drowsily groan in response, unready to speak coherently just yet. Rubbing my eyes with my left hand, I manage to say, "Who…was that?" The doctor doesn't seem to understand, so I wave haphazardly in the direction of the hallway.

"Oh! That was one of the more…" he pauses, mulling over his brain in order to find a polite word, "_insistent_ members of the press here in Tokusane. News travels quickly when it concerns a certain gravely ill Master."

"What's wrong with me?" I repeat.

"You had some complications with a particularly bad bout of mycoplasma-induced pneumonia; you should have had that cough checked out a long time ago," he adds disapprovingly, returning my charts to the hook on the foot of my bed.

Shigeru languidly wedges his hands into his pants pockets. "I should have noticed sooner."

The doctor takes a place beside me, holding my wrist and counting my pulse. I notice from his ID tag that his name is Dr. Hanazono.

"I didn't think…it was that serious…" I manage to say.

"Yes, well, you're lucky to have such a concerned friend call an ambulance for you. Your status could have easily been much more severe." If I had been paying attention, I would have seen Shigeru turn away, embarrassed.

Hanazono turns to Shigeru, acknowledging him completely for the first time. "Would you mind stepping outside for a moment? I am going to administer some minor tests."

Shigeru frowns but bites back any response he may have been formulating. He looks to me and says, "I have to go to work now, emergency meeting." I must look upset because he adds, "But I'll be back around supper time. There's a sudoku book there–" he gestures to the nightstand "–if you get bored. And I've left some of the cards and gifts people've sent on the table behind the curtain…."

"Alright," I say quietly, and Shigeru lightly squeezes my foot as he passes the bed. Silently he waves and leaves the curtained area, stepping out into the hall.

I try to ignore the fact that Shigeru's gone and focus instead on what Hanazono said about the ambulance. I remember something about one, but it's fuzzy.… I thought it had been a part of my dreams, but I suppose it could have really occurred. I try to bring up other details of my supposed reverie but, however, none come easily to mind. I just remember feeling really warm….

"How long have I been here?" I ask Hanazono, who is writing jot-notes on my charts again.

"Two days, more or less," he casually replies, which jolts me with surprise. I give a small shout and Hanazono explains calmly, "You are run down from your illness; it has taken you this long to recuperate into a half-decent state." His hands are on my shoulders and gently pressing me back into the bed. He continues his check-up, waiting before placing a blood-pressure cuff on my arm.

I relax again into my pillow, calming my nerves. I rub my eyes and ask, "Have I had any visitors?"

"Only Mr. Ookido. We called your emergency contacts, but none of them were available to come on such short notice."

"None?" I ask numbly. The lonely void in my chest swells ever-so-slightly.

"No," Hanazono says, oblivious to my condition. "Thus, your mother gave permission for Mr. Ookido to receive special visiting privileges in her place. He appears to be living with you, so we've managed to bend the rules for at least a little while."

I think I hear an irregular tone in his voice, but I might just be paranoid. I feel the need to explain, to avoid any possible incorrect conclusions. "Shigeru needed a place to stay for a while, so I let him. We aren't–"

"Your private life is not one of my concerns," Hanazono says simply, concluding with his writing. He clicks his pen lid, placing it back in his breast pocket. "You're looking far better than the past two nights. I think you're almost capable of returning home. However, you'll still need plenty of bed rest over the next several days, and I do not recommend any excursions outdoors for extended lengths of time."

"You're sending me home?" I can't believe what I am hearing. I don't feel up to my best yet, and I don't see how I'm ready to be left on my own to recuperate.

Hanazono nods. "Our nurses want to care for you a bit longer before releasing you to Mr. Ookido's attention. He has told us – repeatedly – that you'll be receiving the appropriate care and supervision you need at home. When we reach that point, we shall arrange a private manner you can by leave without capturing the press's attention." I must look confused by this because Hanazono explains, "The paparazzi are desperate for information on your condition and have camped out at the front entrance. Our staff has been hard-pressed to keep them away."

I nod understandingly, and Hanazono gives a small farewell before parting to view other patients. My head is so clogged that I have to count off the new pieces of information I've learned on my fingers as I think of them. I've had a bad case of pneumonia and am stuck in the intensive care unit of the local Tokusane Hospital. The media has scented my illness, suddenly giving me attention. No one – not my friends, my family – came to see me in the hospital. My mother gave Shigeru familial visiting privileges in her place.…

My head hurts too much to try and decide what this all means. I choose to rest a while and try not to mull over the implications about my lack of visitors. I consider my discharge and wonder when I'll be ready for it; I don't feel prepared to leave, but I hate hospitals enough that I would rather take my chances at home. Besides, it sounds like Shigeru will be there to watch out for me if anything happens again.

Despite the hollow, deadened feeling residing in my chest, I feel slightly better at the thought.

-----------

Shigeru hadn't been gone for more than ten minutes before I was bored and wanting company. Luckily, my ward's nurse arrived quickly after, bringing in my enthralling breakfast of pudding and jelly medleys. I relaxed for the rest of the morning, working on some sudoku puzzles before relenting to boredom yet again. I tried not to think about my friends not coming to see me; I suppose it's too much to ask for them to fly to Tokusane on such short notice.

I saw the nurse again at noon when she woke me up and handed me a tray involving soup and mashed vegetables. She didn't say much, but her smile was bright and contagious, and her hair was a vibrant shade of red that seemed to bring life to the sterile room. Her cheerfulness made the gross meals manageable. I couldn't tell if she was this happy to see all of her patients or just me in particular.

Shortly before her supper rounds, she stopped by and informed me that her children were all so excited to know that the Master was in the same ward she worked in.

"I don't tell them a thing about you, sir," she informs me, having yet to bring in my tray. "But they are both so excited that I've met Master Satoshi in person. D'you think–"

"–What're their names?" I smile and ask, already aware where the question is leading to. I grab a piece of paper from the back of Shigeru's sudoku book and ready my pencil in anticipation.

She recites her children's names, and I formulate a little card of thanks to the both of them and hand it to the nurse. "Aren't you just so sweet?" she says, her reverential tone enough to make me blush. She slips the card into her breast pocket before departing for my supper tray. I hear her stop and talk enthusiastically to someone outside my door.

Before I know it, Shigeru has returned, his hands holding a stack of cards and my supper tray. He gives his greetings as he sets the tray on the table before me. "So how're you feeling now, Sato?"

"Bored to tears," I reply with vigor. "I've done sixteen sudoku puzzles and I already hate the game."

Shigeru helps me remove the lid from my supper; he sets the unwanted case on the foot of my bed. "So how was work?" I ask, mostly because I have no idea what else he's been doing in my departure. I am distracted from his response, however, when I sight what supper consists of.

"Yum," Shigeru says sardonically. "Hope you like tuna casserole."

My face contorts. "I don't."

"Well then, I hope you like staying in the hospital for another day. Hanazono won't discharge you if you don't eat."

I grimace at the thought of the casserole; picking through the parts of the supper I like, I start sipping at the cup of beef broth and nibbling at the tiny salad. Shigeru grins slightly to himself, shaking his head as I make an attempt at the pasta. "Go on, Satoshi. It's not going to eat itself."

Jerk. I try eating the casserole, but the quality is…lacking, to say the least.

I look to Shigeru imploringly, glimpsing between him and the tray. He follows my gaze to the casserole. I raise my eyebrows, questioning. It takes Shigeru a moment to understand.

"Oh no, Sato. No way."

"C'mon, Shigeru, please?" I give him my best wounded expression. "I really want to go home."

"And I want you to come home too, but that – that's too much to ask for," he finishes lamely.

I don't ask him again; I don't have to. Under my barrage of pleading glances, Shigeru finally relents. Casting his hands up in the air, he sighs and pulls his chair closer to the bed. "Keep an eye on the door and warn me if anyone's coming," Shigeru says seriously, quickly glancing at the hall.

I nod and he takes the fork from me; stabbing the casserole a couple times, he grabs a mouthful of the dish and sets down the cutlery.

"God, this is vile," he says after swallowing, and I can't help but laugh at the severity of his tone. His face twisted in a grimace, Shigeru adds, "Remind me to never do you any favours. Ever."

"Eat a little more, so it looks half done," I say, grinning and pointing at an untouched portion of the pasta. Shigeru gives me a simpering look before doing exactly that.

He has barely set down the fork when Dr. Hanazono appears down the hallway. Making some last-minute scrambling at my meal, I push the tuna casserole around and make it look mostly finished before the doctor enters the room. I give a knowing look at Shigeru, who finishes swallowing his final bite of casserole and shoots me a foul look. Dr. Hanazono rounds the curtain and I do my best to appear convincingly fit and ready for home.

"How are you this evening?" Hanazono asks, retrieving my charts from the end of the bed. He doesn't spare me a second glance.

"Much better than this morning," I say earnestly; despite my minor dizziness and mind-fog from my medication, I honestly did feel better.

Hanazono asks more questions and completes his round by looking at my supper tray. "Looks like you've your appetite back." Nodding appreciatively, he says, "I think you're ready to leave tonight." He glances at Shigeru and says, "We'll have his discharge papers ready in an hour or so. Are you prepared to bring him home?"

"I'll call a cab in a half-hour," Shigeru replies.

"Good. Follow me to the nurse's station and we'll go over his medications." As Dr. Hanazono leaves the room, Shigeru follows shortly behind him; out of Hanazono's view, I grin at Shigeru and mouth silently _Thank you_. Shigeru sticks out his tongue.

_You owe me big time_ is what I think Shigeru mouths back, but I can't be sure. The humor on his face betrays any seriousness he might have intended.

---------------

By early evening I have changed out of my papery hospital gown and back into decent clothing. The IV was removed from my wrist by the redheaded nurse, leaving me capable of using both hands again. Shigeru left shortly ago, saying he would be back once a taxicab had been prepared.

As I'm changing, I notice my outfit is not the one I arrived at the hospital in – assuming I was in my pajamas when I turned up. Shigeru must have brought the different clothes for me to wear.… I'm struck by how thoroughly he considered everything I might need: he had the clothes here and ready; a hidden ride arranged for me to go home. I feel a twinge of guilt strike in the pit of my stomach. Shigeru was watching out for me so carefully. I feel the need to make it up to him somehow.

Not too long later, the sweet redheaded nurse brings a wheelchair for me to rest in. She directs me towards a door the paparazzi weren't allowed by, and after what seems like forever, we finally reach the recluse exit she had addressed. I stand tiredly out of view, trying to nonchalantly look about for where Shigeru could possibly be. The weather has warmed during my stint at the hospital. Typical; we finally have nice weather in Tokusane and I'll be stuck indoors for its duration….

I grimace painfully; my legs are weary and sore from being used for the first time in days, and I lean against a column for support. A box of gifts and cards sits beside me; I haven't the chance to read them all yet, but I will at home. I'm so tired that I'm ready to fall asleep, but I don't have long enough to do so; soon I observe a taxi pull up in to the streetlamp's golden glow before the doors, and I see Shigeru step out of the yellow vehicle.

I examine him as he saunters up the hospital stairs, unaware of my gaze. To any outside observer he would look so composed and charming, his hands shoved casually into his pants pockets, his russet hair tousled around his face by the balmy air. You couldn't tell by looking at him how much he has struggled through. He looks nothing like the anxious and fretful man I last recall.

I catch myself smiling at the mere sight of him, genuinely (and surprisingly) glad to see him. Shigeru sights me by the column, smirking as he walks over to me.

"Satoshi! We're in the final stretch; how to you feel?"

"I feel like death warmed over," I say, disdain in my voice.

"What about me? I suffered through that tuna…."

I smile to myself. "Take me home, Shigeru; I can't stand it here."

"So be it," he replies agreeably, holding the heavy door open and walking beside me. My legs are weak, but I force them to work until the taxi. I crawl into the back seat while Shigeru circles around the vehicle to get in on the other side. I close my door with a snap, releasing a heavy, semi-drugged sigh as I do this. I roll my head back, letting it sway with the motions of the taxicab as it pulls away from the curb.

We sit in silence for the most part, the cab's only illumination coming from the passing blurs of streetlights; I feel drained from my illness, my body unwilling to obey my mind, and I can't help but close my eyes on the ride home. Shigeru speaks periodically, his voice low and soothingly soft, the sound absorbed by the comfy interior of the vehicle.

Shigeru quietly chats about how there wasn't a reporter in sight at the hospital's rear entrance, and says there have been no visitors at my house, bar two young trainers during my stint in the hospital. He tells me that Yukiko will be in town on a business trip by the end of the week. I nod occasionally as he speaks, my eyes struggling to stay open. I am listening more to the smooth tone of his voice than the words that he is saying. I sleepily open my eyes and gaze at him, watching his hands gesture while he speaks.

Knowing what I now know, Shigeru seems so different from who he as a child. He had always been a secretive, true, but he used to let me in on his thoughts whenever I asked him. Then, as a teen, Shigeru spent his life hating me and keeping secrets from everyone; he was so convincingly _not _his true self that I can't be certain what he's really like anymore. Was the adult Shigeru some combination of both past forms, or is he something new that I hadn't yet figured out?

I can't imagine the ache and loneliness he must have endured for all those years as a teen, traveling alone, suffering alone. At least I always had someone to turn to whenever I had been upset – Takeshi, Kasumi, or Haruka – but Shigeru never had anyone. He said so himself that is was only Yukiko that he considered a friend; but she mustn't live locally – she was flying in this week – so visiting her when he needed her was out of the question. I feel an empathic ache swell up in my chest at the thought, wishing I could have done more to help him in his time of need.

"Satoshi? You listening?" Shigeru asks quietly, pulling his gaze away from the front of the vehicle. He was talking about something but stops abruptly, watching me carefully. "Should we go back to the hospital?" he asks quietly. I can tell he is second-guessing his decision to aid my escape via the tuna casserole.

An impulsive feeling rushes through me and, ignoring the little voice inside my head telling me I shouldn't do it, I place my hand over his palm, calmly coiling my fingers between his for comfort. "No, Shigeru, I'm fine. I just I want to go home," I mumble, sleepily smiling at Shigeru.

He hesitates about what to do with my hand; giving comfort to a hospital patient was different than holding the hand of a friend. At first I thought he was going to pull away, but after a moment's indecision he lets me keep my grip on his hand, even giving me an almost-imperceptible squeeze (maybe?) in response.

I must look very tired; Shigeru quits speaking and lets me rest in silence. I close my eyes again, enjoying the sensation of movement from the cab ride, the occasional bumps of the road rocking me to sleep. We spend the rest of the ride home that way, quiet and serene, Shigeru's eyes flickering over me every once and a while.

By time we arrive at my address I'm nearly asleep. As the vehicle comes to a stop, I groggily pull myself into a sitting position, my casual grip on Shigeru's palm releasing as a result. Shigeru climbs out of the vehicle first, thanking the driver and paying him his fare. I don't bother with arguing that I should give money for half of it too; I already know that Shigeru won't let me pay for my share.

We walk side-by-side up to my front door, which Shigeru unlocks it and swings it open for me. I can't remember ever giving him the keys to my house, but I guess he must have found them in my bedroom. I'm not really bothered by this; I would have given him a copy if I had thought of it beforehand.

I stagger tiredly into the front entrance of my house, enjoying the sensation of what it feels like to be home again. I sigh and unsteadily stretch my arms out to my sides. As if I'm outside myself, I _observe _rather than experience firsthand the sensation of losing my balance. I stumble backwards, but reflex-quick Shigeru grips my shoulder, keeping me upright.

"You should get to bed now, Sato; you look beat," Shigeru says seriously, and my spine shivers as I hear my old nickname. It's the first time I've noticed him call me it. When I don't respond, Shigeru looks at me, puzzled. "What?"

I grimace and say embarrassedly, "My legs are throbbing and I don't think I can walk up the stairs." It's an honest enough admittance, I suppose. My legs truly bothered me, and I _am_ very tired, but I think I could force myself up a flight of steps if I had to…. Still, I decide to milk my illness for all its worth.

Shigeru rolls his eyes and says, "Fine."

He moves his arm across my shoulders, supporting me incase I fall again. My head feels foggy from my medication; I keep a futile eye on each stair as it approaches, mimicking Shigeru's steps as he grips the banister tightly for support. At the top of the stairs, my head lolls and I catch scent of his aftershave (spicy and masculine, very pleasing) and release a near-silent, drowsy sigh of contentment.

We shortly reach my bedroom, and we stumble through the dark until Shigeru switches on the lamp and guides me to the bed. The room takes on a creamy golden hue in the lamp's light, and I sink into the layers of thick covers, running my fingers distractedly over the smooth fabric of the comforter. Shigeru closely watches me, standing nearby. "Go to sleep, Satoshi," he repeats, "You're ready to pass out."

"Yeah, yeah," I blearily mumble in response, my head drowsily tipping forward as gravity tugs me insistently downwards. I force my eyes open again, trying to focus on Shigeru instead.

Shigeru gestures to the nearby dresser, a pile of folded clothes resting on the polished wood surface. "I put your pajamas here after they changed you at the hospital." Dryly he adds, "You can get ready for bed by yourself, right? Because I'm not about to offer my help in that area…."

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" I mumble, rubbing my eyes, and Shigeru affably shakes his head. He moves into the hallways, shutting my door behind him as he goes. Calling through the wooden panel, I hear him say, "I'll be back in a sec. Tell me when you're done so I can come in."

I nod to myself in response, listening as his footsteps fade down the hall and into his room. My fingers clumsily begin to pull at the buttons on my shirt, my eyes blurring and lidding more and more insistently. Changing for bed seems to take forever, my weary body unwilling to follow the commands my mind gives to it.

After a few moments I hear the floorboards creak in the hall, signaling Shigeru's return to my door. Slipping the last of my jeans off my legs and fastening my pajama pants in place, I call loud enough for him to hear, "I'm finished." The door squeaks open and Shigeru raps his fingers against the frame as he enters, the sound echoing melodiously through the room. Yawning to myself, I fumblingly kick my rumpled clothing beneath the bed so Shigeru wouldn't see them.

I sneakily gaze in his direction as he passes me, my eyes wandering over his body, and I notice for the first time how tall he is. Although I couldn't accurately judge from my position, I figure he has a good three inches on me. His figure is slight and subtly muscular compared to my sturdy, tanned frame. He has swapped his day clothes for pajamas consisting of a faded grey t-shirt and black cotton pants. Only Shigeru could make something so plain look so effortlessly appealing….

He hands me a glass of water and a pill bottle. He recites my medication schedule as he slouches into the faded lounger in the corner. I hastily break my gaze as he looks at me forthright. His hand moves down one side of the recliner, gripping the worn wooden handle in an attempt to fold out the leg rest. "It's broken," I offer, and Shigeru sighs tiredly, shrugging to show that it didn't really matter anyways. He drapes his legs over one armrest instead, his body remaining upright and angled in the seat.

My mouth stretches wide as another yawn escapes me, expressing my thorough exhaustion. Shigeru smiles wryly, one corner of his lips pulling upwards into a smirk. "Didn't you get enough sleep at the hospital, Satoshi? I thought two days would have been satisfactory."

"Nowhere…near…." I mutter, giving in and letting my body slump backwards onto the bed's thick comforter. My eyes clasp shut and refuse to open again, not at all bothered by the lamplight pouring onto them. My arms splayed to my sides, I mumble near-incoherently, "I could fall asleep like this, right now, and be satisfied…."

"At least try and crawl into bed," Shigeru repeats to me, propping his chin up in one hand and leaning on the cracked leather arm of the chair. "Get some rest."

"I'd be a terrible host if I did that…."

"I don't need much for company, Satoshi. I just need to be around someone." His eyes drop to his hands as he plays with a loose string on his shirt. Quietly he says, "I was stir-crazy, being here by myself."

"…Sorry," I mutter slowly, the sound barely audible past my lips. How odd it must have felt to live in my house without me.

Shigeru scoffs at my apology. "Yeah, I'm holding you responsible for your illness." Shifting in his seat, he sardonically adds, "How rude of you to catch pneumonia in my presence."

"I'll try not to next time…." He laughs as the words slump languidly off my tongue. Waves of lethargy are washing over me more and more insistently, so I attempt to crawl beneath my covers before I am completely void to the world.

The moment my head hits the pillows I'm practically asleep, sinking myself into the warm, sweet-smelling fabric of my sheets and covers. My body is only half-enveloped in my blankets, but I can't muster the necessary energy to fix it; I just lay in the messy jumble of comforters and sheets, doing my best to keep warm from the onslaught of cool night air. It feels so good to be home again….

I must fall asleep immediately, for I don't remember much after closing my eyes that final time. As my breathing deepens to the rhythm of sleep, I miss out on a lot of small things that happen around me.

I don't hear Shigeru nimbly scale my room and _click_ my lamp light off, basking the room in darkness, nor do I feel it when he gently slips his arms beneath my neck and readjusts my position, tugging blankets free and pulling uniformly over my body.

I don't hear him say "G'night, Sato," as he quietly walks back to the lounger, propping his head in his hand so that he can keep an eye on me. I don't see Shigeru fall asleep in that uncomfortable recliner, his chin still propped in his hand; my mind's attention is fixated elsewhere, flowing through the muddle of my dreams. I'm preoccupied by the memory of the day, of Shigeru's concern and the scent of his aftershave. I don't see it, but a tiny smile splays on my sleeping face at the memory of Shigeru's hand in mine.

-0-0-0-0-

Sappy, but no cliffhangers. See? I can be nice….


	9. Chapter Nine

Author's Note: Poppo and Subame are Pidgey and Taillow, respectively. Shion is Lavender Town, and Kogane is Goldenrod in Jouto.

Disclaimer: I do not own Pokemon or its characters. The story is a work of fiction and in no way shall money be made from this endeavor. Unauthorized reproduction or copying of this fiction is not allowed (aka do not copy/post/save to your hard drive or elsewhere).

Melody of a Memory  
By Leika Lai

Chapter Nine

I rest through the night without stirring at all. I woke up the morning after arriving home feeling groggy and unintelligible, my eyes refusing to focus and my mind refusing to clear. That first time reawakening, Shigeru was by my bedside almost immediately, carefully handing me medication and muttering for me to go back to sleep. Still, occasionally he would stir me awake, tell me to sit up and eat food he brought or take more medication, and then let me fall back to slumber.

I spent the majority of a day in an unconscious stupor, probably induced by my medication, and only after that solid day of rest was I ready to remain awake for long periods of time. Once Shigeru was convinced my newfound consciousness wasn't a one-off event, he kept me company by conversing, even bringing me novels he had uncovered from an old box in his closet. I didn't own many books, so I'm not sure where Shigeru came up with the paperbacks; the box he found must have been left by the previous tenant. There were no familiar titles or authors in the pile, but I found them interesting enough to read whenever I was awake.

Shigeru's behaviour confirmed my suspicions that he had delegated it upon himself to watch over me carefully. He spent most of his free time sitting in my room, at first lounging awkwardly in the broken recliner, reading or bringing me food and water as I requested it. We didn't have much to say; since I often lapsed into slumber, Shigeru and I became accustomed to sitting in the same room without speaking.

I started to notice Shigeru squirming and changing positions in his busted seat, growing increasingly uncomfortable as he sat scrunched up in the armchair. Finally his constant fiddling became so annoying that I offered him a spot on my bed to make him stop. He was unwilling at first, but I convinced him that he wouldn't die if he sat next to me, and so eventually he left that uncomfortable chair and repositioned to the covers.

Currently, it is early evening and I'm half-upright in bed with the covers folded over my torso; Shigeru is stretched out opposite of me, his head propped up by a pillow against the bed's end board, his feet near my lower arm. His attention is fixated on a worn novel and I am attempting to follow one of my own.

I watch him from the corner of my eye, sighting how he absentmindedly chews on his lower lip as he reads, how his hair brushes distractedly in his eyes and he has to sweep away the russet tendrils in order to see. I hate being cooped up in my room, but at least I can amuse myself by simply watching him.

As I'm 'reading', I feel myself starting to get fidgety again, like my nerves bunch together and scream to move, to get out and do _something_ other than sit or sleep. Shigeru won't let me get out of bed, I know, since I'm not at full health; that, I only got to leave whenever I desperately needed the washroom. Still, I need to get rid of this anxiety somehow.

"Shigeru?" I begin quietly, resting my hand gently on his leg to catch his attention.

Shigeru glances over the remainder of his paragraph before swiveling his head, his attention switching towards me. "Yeah?" His eyebrows arch slightly. "You need something, Satoshi?" He motions as if to get up, but I shake my head in response.

"No, I just…I need to break the silence."

Shigeru marks his page and closes his book, placing the novel on the comforter and giving me his full awareness. "Anything in particular you want to talk about?" he asks me quietly.

I have no idea what to speak with him about, but I improvise by asking, "Tell me about that girl you mentioned the other night. Yukiko…."

"Merumi Yukiko?" he proffers and I nod to him in agreement. Shigeru's face grows momentarily puzzled. "Why do you want to talk about her?"

"Well, she's your friend, isn't she?" I shrug noncommittally. "That's enough to make me want to hear about her." Honestly, I was curious what kinds of friends Shigeru kept; from the sounds of Julia, he wasn't that good a judge of character….

Shigeru sighs and looks up at the ceiling, rotating his head minutely side to side as he thinks of what to say. His hands smooth over the covers of the bed, and I feel the soft movement through the blankets on my legs. Looking at him in amusement, a small smile plays over my lips as I take in his little tells. He is just too entertaining to watch now that he's stopped acting so clammed-up; he's finally reverting back to my childhood friend.

"Well," Shigeru commences, his gaze dropping from the ceiling as he speaks. His hand still smoothes the covers as he says, "She talks a lot, is very vibrant and obstinate, but somehow quick to forgive others. And…she grew up in Shion but has since relocated to Kogane." He gives me a small grin. "I guess those are the big details."

"Is she still a trainer?" I ask, to which Shigeru shakes his head.

"She loves wild monsters but she had no real interest in training them as a teen. You probably already know this, Sato, but the Pokemon Tower resides in Shion, and Yukiko said that she's seen too many restless, pained spirits to risk accidentally hurting or killing a monster in battle."

"So why'd she even become a trainer, then?" I say, puzzled.

Shigeru's mouth tightens into a thin line as he decides how much to reveal. Finally he replies, "Kiko started her journey as a way to escape her home life. When her father died, her mother…changed, became verbally abusive, constantly belittling her. Yukiko used life as a trainer as an escape."

I inattentively notice my hand toying with his pant leg's hem as he speaks; he must feel me do this but he says nothing. Shigeru shifts a little in his spot, retraining his mind on our topic, "I guess her mother's mistreatment was part of the reason why we became friends at the Seikei League."

"How so?" I don't see how the two conditions would be related.

Shigeru grimaces as if he doesn't want to admit the connection. Finally he says, "Yukiko and I…confronted each other when she overheard me berating you in the Seikei League. She can't stand anyone who cuts other people down.

"…She came to my hotel room and saw me that night, after my match. She told me how amazing my monsters and then scolded me for my vanity. I was distracted and didn't really take what she said to heart. She must have recognized that I was upset, because she questioned what was bothering me, and I was in such a state that I…I confessed. About you, and how I felt about you and how I was treating you at the time."

"You were upset about it?" I breathe, unable to believe the words I'm hearing. Shigeru never discusses that nasty time in our friendship.

Shigeru looks at me with disbelief. "What do you think, that I enjoyed being such an asshole?" His features soften as he adds, "I hated the way I was treating you, but I couldn't stop."

"Why were you doing it then?" I ask quickly, but Shigeru decidedly ignores me.

Instead, he commits a non-sequitur and continues, "Kiko and I traveled together for a bit after the Seikei League, ditching my cheerleaders and convertible, getting to know one another. We became good friends, which surprised me; I never expected to have close friends after I'd lost you, especially one with the person who defeated me in my first League competition."

Even though I am intensely curious and brimming with questions, Shigeru appears very uncomfortable discussing this subject. I didn't want to ruin it by bringing bad memories back to the surface of our minds. "So what is she doing now?" I ask instead, changing the topic from that dark spot of our past. I had my opening to ask him for further details, but I didn't think it would be wise to do so….

"Like I said, she lives in Kogane City, Jouto." Shigeru's body relaxes and he says, "You know the day care centre just outside the city?"

"Mhmm. I was there once before."

"Well, the elderly couple running the place was getting too old to care for the monsters by themselves, so they brought Yukiko on to their team. She took a job with them almost a year ago, and she helps them care for the monsters trainers and researchers bring there."

"Sounds like interesting work."

"She adores it," Shigeru replies fervently. "It's really good for her; she gets to be around Pokemon and doesn't have to worry about them in battle." He smiles to himself and says, "She won't shut up about it whenever I call."

I switch positions, turning to better look at Shigeru. "Does she ever miss being a trainer?" I ask him, tucking one palm between my chin and pillow.

Shigeru shrugs one shoulder. "Sometimes she wants to be back on the road again, but the rewards of her new life are just too good to give up. Kogane is a beautiful city as well; she says the biggest perk is being near the largest department stores in Jouto."

"Typical," I say, shaking my head in amusement. Shigeru nods and lazily closes his eyes, his tousled hair hanging into them. He looks so handsome right now, so stress-free.

"When d'you work next, Shigeru?" I ask, curious. I knew Shigeru is now working sporadically, but I'm not certain how his schedule operates.

Shigeru sighs. "Technically, I'm not back to work until next week, but…my co-workers have made a big discovery in my absence, so I'm checking in again tomorrow to help them out."

"So then you're full-time again?"

"No, I still have the day after off." Shigeru permits himself to grin. "It's funny that you mentioned Yukiko, actually. She's gonna be in town two days from now, so we're hanging out that day."

"Oh," I say quietly. I didn't like to think that Shigeru would be gone; I was growing accustomed to his company.

"Sato?" he asks me quietly, his eyes lidding halfway, not looking at me.

"Mmm?" I reply, tilting my head to one side.

"It's nothing, just," Shigeru says quickly, his tone uncharacteristically humble. "I was just wondering why you live alone. I mean, all this time we were apart, I figured you at least had a girlfriend or someone with you."

My cheeks redden at his words. "Why would you assume that?" I blurt.

Shigeru shrugs, uncomfortable. "All those friends you had, traveling with you, I figured they'd stick by you. And you're the Master," he says like it explains anything. "Girls'd be falling left and right to be with you, but you're still alone."

"I dunno," I say slowly. Shigeru is unaware that he is watching me intently, his breath withheld. Finally I answer, "My friends had their own lives to live, I guess. And I had a couple girls that I tried to date but…it never worked out."

"Why not?" Shigeru fails to suppress his intrigue.

I shrug again. "I just…didn't know what they wanted from me." Plus I doubted the sincerity of their feelings; it's difficult to grow close to someone when you're constantly second-guessing their motives.

"You wanted to date them, though?"

"Not really," I admit honestly. Laughing a bit, I add, "It's more like they wore me down 'til I accepted."

Shigeru shifts his body weight on the bed, repositioning so he is leaning closer to me. He picks up his book again and grins slightly. "Kind of like Jules and me then."

"Yeah," I quickly agree, not considering its implications.

My response seems to signal the end of our conversation, for Shigeru doesn't say any more. Instead we curiously gaze at each other for a moment, a strange emotion passing through me time as we do this. It feels like that spark of electricity is sitting in my chest again, right beside my heart, and it makes it difficult for me to breathe.

I don't think Shigeru and I ever just stopped and looked at each other at the same time; yeah, we would look at each other, but not _look _at each other.I always made sneaky glances when I wanted to gaze at him, trying to make sure that he doesn't catch me when I do this. I could feel my pulse unnaturally strong in my chest as he now stares at me, and I give him a wry smile that he immediately returns.

In unison, we both turn our attention back to our books once again, and I can't help but inexplicably grin at what just happened. I can't describe it; I just feel different now.

----------

It isn't long before I start falling asleep again, unable to continue our reading routine. I doze off part way through my novel, the book teetering dangerously in my hand over the bed edge. I don't know what happened to Shigeru, if he left soon after I fell asleep or not. He had looked tired as well, and he has to get up early for work tomorrow.

I wake again sometime early morning, the blankets over my body lying smooth and completely unmoved. Normally I toss and turn greatly in my sleep, so for me to find that I hadn't stirred at all… I must still be exhausted in order to sleep so soundly.

My eyes unlid and I cringe at the brightness pouring in from my window, the glaring morning sun only slightly hampered by thin curtains. I can hear wild Poppo and Subame chirruping cheerfully outside the glass windowpane, and the sky visible from the square hole in the wall appears painted in oranges and purples; it must be just after daybreak. Ugh, it is way too early to be awake….

Reluctantly I force myself into a sitting position, the comforting weight of my blankets sliding from my torso and heaping on my lap. Extending my arms and stretching the muscles in my back, I yawn widely as I survey my surroundings with a bleary eye. I feel better than I have in days, though my chest still feels a little tight.

My eyes halt as they pass over the foot of my bed, an unfamiliar shape present overtop my covers. I cock my head to one side, wondering if I am somehow imaging things. My brow furrows and I sit and crouch closer, peering closer at the sleeping figure. I feel winded when I fully realize what it is.

Shigeru…. Did he sleep like that the whole night through? I appraise the awkward angles of his position, his arms and legs pulled tight to his body, his neck bent stiffly against the end board. I grimace; his body will be aching when he wakes up. A pang of guilt hits me as I notice he doesn't even have a blanket for warmth; he had fallen asleep on the top of my covers, giving him nothing to cover himself with. I had been comfortably cozy last night, but Shigeru must have been freezing.

As sneakily as I can, I remove the top comforter from my side of the bed. Carefully I drape the quilt along his frame, folding it over his bed side while avoiding waking him. I slide off the bed, trying my best to not shake it, and move to the other edge to finish covering Shigeru up. I halt in my work and look intently at him.

His hair is tousled and its color is an earthy, reddish hue in the morning sunlight. The skin on his face is smooth and pale except where his cheek is pressed into his shoulder, the flesh there pinkish and red from the constant contact with his shirt. Shigeru's lips are parted slightly, his breath coming out in small, rhythmic puffs of air. His eyelashes quiver slightly as he dreams, and his eyes squint tightly shut as he stirs.

I irrationally want to graze my fingertips over his skin, to push my palm through what I know will be smooth hair. Immediately I feel foolish; imagine how Shigeru would react if he awoke to me touching his face.

I feel my chest tighten as a coughing fit suddenly approaches, my lungs feeling like they are swelling shut. I am standing too close to Shigeru to start coughing here; he would wake up for sure with the noise, and then he would question why I am standing so close to him while he sleeps.… The only thing I can think of doing is run out to the hallway, but I doubt I have time to complete the distance.

I try anyways, bounding as quickly and quietly as I can from the room. I stop moving only once I reach the upper stairway landing, my chest throbbing from the pent-up fit. Gripping the banister before the stairs tightly, I double over, turning my head and coughing thickly into my shoulder as I try to muffle the sound. I wasn't able to shut the bedroom door behind me; the cough was violent enough that the sound could carry to the end of the hall....

My eyes squinting shut, I groan tiredly; my head gains a dull throb as the fit finishes. I guess it was just too much to hope that I had made a 'miraculous' recovery overnight. But I did sleep the whole night through, so that should be enough rest for now. Ignoring the advice Dr. Hanazono gave, I decide to go downstairs and have some breakfast rather than return to bed.

I take one step down the stairs when I hear "Sato?" behind me.

Whipping my head around in the direction of the sound, I see Shigeru leaning against the frame of my bedroom door, rubbing at his eyes before lazily crossing his arms. Damn; I must have woken him despite my efforts. My anger vanishes as I inspect him closer, a new feeling taking its place.

The way the light from the window behind is washing over him, Shigeru looks…radiant. His hair has settled into unkempt whirls around his head, seeming to glow from the sunlight. His expression is still peaceful from the calms of sleep, but his senses are sharpening the longer he stands awake. I find it suddenly hard to breathe, something that I'm not convinced has to do with my sickly lungs.

I wonder if I had really coughed loud enough to wake Shigeru. A worrisome thought enters my mind; could he have been awake while I placed my blanket over him? Even if his eyes weren't open, he still could have sensed my presence, felt the movements I made as I tucked the quilt over him. What if he thought that I–

"Satoshi, what're you doing out of bed?" Shigeru asks me curiously, stretching as he scales the length of the hallway. The floor creaks beneath his bare feet, and I feel another stab of guilt as I see him wince and rub his hand over his sore neck. "You're supposed to rest for a few more days," he adds, frowning. I shy my gaze away as he disapprovingly folds his arms over his chest.

"Y-yeah, well…" I stutter, trying to think of a plausible response that won't end with me stuck in bed for the next two days. Honestly, what bother is it of Shigeru's if I don't want to follow the doctor's orders? "D-Dr. Hanazono thought I was doing well enough that I didn't need as much sleep, a-and–"

"–You're lying," Shigeru says curtly, cutting off my lame excuse with one arching, disbelieving eyebrow. Purposefully he takes a step closer to me, his expression one of feigned indifference.

I gulp nervously; that expression of his has never meant any good. "W-why would you think that, Geru?"

A smirk dances across his lips as he steps between me and the staircase, blocking my only means of escape. "Incase you don't remember, _I _was the last one to talk to Hanazono, and he told me to make sure you take it easy for three days, _minimum_, else you might relapse and end up back in the hospital." He continues airily, "Dr. Hanazono seemed to think that you won't follow his advice if you're left on your own …."

"I don't know why he would think that, Shigeru. You know that I-I'd–"

"Good," Shigeru interjects with finality, "then you won't mind going back to bed. It's early still."

"I don't really think that I have to." I cross my arms in added emphasis to my already-pouting face. "I'm bored, Shigeru. I've rested for two full days already."

He sighs and tiredly as he takes a step towards me. "If you won't go willingly, then you leave me no choice."

Without any warning, he speedily darts forward and seizes my arm and waist, his shoulder pressed against my chest as he pushes me backwards. For a split-second I can't fathom what he is doing, but I come to my senses as I see he's forcing me back to my room. Immediately I put up a protest, flailing out, and he loses his grasp on my wrist; I grapple wildly at the banister, at the wall – basically, at any surface I can catch hold of.

"No, Shigeru, I don't want to–" I grunt in objection, wrestling with one hand at his fingers coiled around my arm. I'm too frail to put up much of a fight, however, and Shigeru is forceful but also careful not to hurt me in my weakened condition. I push off from him, my head pitted against his shoulder as I put as much force into my hold as possible. I pivot my legs behind me, digging my heels into the wood floor. Straining and stretching out, I grab hold of my doorframe on both sides before he pushes me completely into the room.

Shigeru laughs as he faces me; I squirm as his fingers pry at my hands, trying to make me lose grip of the doorframe. He might have been able to push me to my room, but I manage to continue my hold sturdily enough that I don't budge. We are both snickering at the immaturity of our actions, Shigeru pushing in vain while I struggle against him.

Suddenly Shigeru moves into dastardly tactics, and my breath hitches as I feel his hands slip across my ribs. It tickles greatly, but that isn't the reason why I instinctively pull my arms in to my sides, trapping and crushing his hands against my body.

Shigeru easily shoves me into the room now that I am no longer trying, but my feet trip upon themselves and I grip his upper arms to avoid falling. Close to the side of my bed, Shigeru stops pushing as he realizes something is wrong. The laughter and playfulness shared so shortly ago dies in the air, and I'm left with the sound of my pulse pounding in my ears, my heart racing.

"You okay?" Shigeru says softly in my ear; he's taller than me and our struggles have positioned us strangely close. I can't see his expression; instead, I feel his breath on my neck, tepid and soft.

I can't answer him, my vocal cords having disappeared for the moment. I'm trying to stop my mind from imagining a continuation of our play-fight, one where Shigeru pushes me until my knees buckle against the edge of the bed, his footsteps slipping on the rug as he presses me backwards and we tumble onto the covers–

I swallow thickly, breaking off that train of thought. Suddenly, I'm acutely aware of my shoulder pressed against Shigeru, his hands on my ribcage holding me up, his chin nearly resting on my ear; I break contact, stepping back to see Shigeru staring as well.

In this moment, a curious sensation pools in my chest and renders me with a weightless feeling I can't accurately describe. I briefly wonder if Shigeru is having as much difficulty as I am in avoiding 'what-if' scenarios; he looks at me in a way I wholly empathize with. Shigeru's expression softens; he moves his head towards mine, a notion my brain translates as _He's going to kiss me_.

Instinctively I turn my head away, focusing my gaze on the window of my room. I try to regain the strength in my legs as I go to step away from him, but embarrassedly I realize that I still have Shigeru's hands clenched between my upper arms and torso. Hastily I loosen my grip, my movements jerky and nervous, and Shigeru gently slides his hands away, my shirt brushing sensitively against me.

"Sorry," I mumble as I stagger to my bed, trying my best to keep my blush from his sight. The flush of heat from my face feels perceptible from miles away, and I know it's too much to hope that Shigeru can't see it. God, how mortifying.

Shigeru seems embarrassed as well; he only nods and scratches his head distractedly, his expression one of puzzlement. We remain awkwardly near each other, neither one looking at the other. I don't dare bring up what just passed between us; I can't bring myself to question what strange thing just happened.

Clearing his throat, Shigeru breaks the uneasy silence by saying quietly, "Please. You should stay in bed and rest, Satoshi. Just tell me if you need anything and I'll get it for you."

"Thanks," I murmur, nodding numbly in response. I lie down and pull the bed covers over me. Better to agree with whatever he says than to risk discussing what just happened.

Checking his watch, Shigeru then looks to the door. "I'll be right back; you've got your meds first-thing in the morning," he mutters, his gaze still pointedly avoiding me as he walks out my room. The door closes halfway behind him but I can hear him pause in his steps, halting for a moment and what sounds like rasping on the wall. However, he shortly resumes walking down to the stairs.

I wait until I am certain that he is out of earshot before releasing a ragged sigh, my heart barely calming down in my chest. I keep my eyes closed and my body still, doing my best to relax. From afar, I hear Shigeru's phone jangle and his low voice as he answers it. I can't catch any words, so I let his voice blend into the background and eventually disappear.

Time passes and I start as I hear a throat-clearing cough. Looking to the door, I see Shigeru has returned. He carries a glass of water in one hand, a fresh stack of books in his other, and he taps the paperbacks distractedly against his leg. I watch him as he sets the glass on the bedside stand. He repeats my pill schedule (again, like I would forget it…), and I mumble back that I will follow it. My eyes are focused down and away from him, and I still feel like my cheeks are glowing red.

"Who was that on the phone?" I manage to mutter, curious in spite of our situation.

Shigeru hesitates, uncertain what to do. On one hand, he wants to talk, I can tell, but he also is desperate to get out of this room. He finally replies, "It was Jules. She needed some help getting the girls to listen and go to the babysitter."

Trying my best not to stammer, I ask, "Is Julia late for work too?"

"Hm?" Shigeru looks puzzled.

"You said you worked today." I point to the clock and Shigeru swears. He spins on his heel, rushing to his room and shutting the door, and I'm thankful for the minor distraction. I need a little more time to regain composure.

Not too long later, Shigeru is dressed in a fitted long-sleeved shirt and dress pants. He fusses with his hair in the hall's mirror before moving on to straightening his tie. Once finished, he turns to me for final inspection, his arms stiff and open, as if beckoning criticism.

"Looking good," I reply quietly, mimicking his movements and gesturing that his tie needs a final straightening.

"I've got to run if I'm going to catch a cab," Shigeru says, completing the tie adjustment I suggested. "There should be enough food in the fridge for your lunch, and I'll bring supper home with me. Don't wear yourself out now that I'm not here to supervise, okay? You should really stay in bed all day."

"Yeah, yeah, you nag." I smirk at him, my anxiety lessening.

Shigeru gives a final glimpse in my direction before dashing down the stairs. I hear him only briefly stop, putting on his shoes I assume, before the door opens and locks shut behind him. Settling into my covers, I finally allow myself to breathe once more.

-0-0-0-0-

An Ode to The Bridge Chapter: Oh bridge chapter, bridge chapter; if not for you, we would never progress to the interesting parts. (Alright, so it's not an ode; _I'm a writer, damnit, not a poet!)_.

Please, take a few seconds and leave a review. A lot of people seem to be reading this 'fic but not giving feedback and it kind of bums me out. I'm not one to complain about this kind of stuff, but it makes me wonder if my quality is slipping or if something is wrong with my writing when people aren't reviewing. Anyways, it'd be lovely if you would drop a response before you go. Take care, dearies :)


	10. Chapter Ten

Author's Note P1: Again, many Japanese names popping up in this chapter. Fans of the game might find Daigo Tsuwabuki more recognizable under his English name, Steven Stone (the game's champion of Hoenn). Likewise, Lan and Fu are Liza and Tate, (Tokusane) Mossdeep's gym leaders. Otachi are Sentret.

Author's Note P2: Apologies for the excessive delay between this update and the last. I know it's the first excuse most writers turn to when they disappear for extended periods of time, but I've been busy. Life started beating me pretty viciously in August, didn't let up until February, and I spent the last several months trying to rebuild amidst the devastation. I'm on my way back to better, and I appreciate everyone's continued interest in this story (even when mine had nearly disappeared).

Big thanks to piratepenguin666 for continually reminding me that I had a story to finish. Secondly, some huge appreciation goes out to Diddle-chan; you're persistence brought this story back to life time and time again. Big hugs :3

Disclaimer: I do not own Pokemon or its characters. The story is a work of fiction and in no way shall money be made from this endeavor. Unauthorized reproduction or copying of this fiction is not allowed (aka do not copy/post/save to your hard drive or elsewhere).

Melody of a Memory  
By Leika Lai

Chapter Ten

Shigeru and I didn't talk much that evening; the morning had been strange and unexpected for both of us, and I suspected Shigeru wanted to put it behind him as much as I did. We kept up casual conversation, but it was nothing as sustainable as before. He only halfheartedly reminded me to take my medications before slipping into his bedroom for the night, and he was not in the house by time I awoke the next day.

I remained fidgeting in my bed until I decided that Shigeru could worry all he wanted, but I wasn't about to stay in my room for hours on end. I was already bored to tears just lying there, staring into space without anything to do. I tentatively clear my throat, waiting for a throbbing ache to begin in my head or chest, but when nothing happens, I make my decision.

What Shigeru doesn't know can't hurt him; I take my medication and grab a blanket on my way downstairs. Honestly, three days of bed rest was too much…. Heading to the living room, I search for the box of gifts that Shigeru carried in from the hospital and, soon enough, I spot it on the dining table. My steps stagger and I gasp as I enter the kitchen, struck by how inaccurately Shigeru described the public's response to my illness.

My kitchen is filled with brightly-colored flowers of every species I can recognize, each in varying degrees of aging: arrangements of untamed lilies and beautiful orchids, sweet-smelling carnations and wild roses, dusky violets and vibrant azaleas. Every color imaginable is represented in this forest of flora. Cards and packages also sit in piles on every available surface, and my jaw drops as I look at all of this; never would I have expected such a response from the public discovering I was ill. Reading over the notes attached to each bouquet, I feel slightly better about my lack of hospital visitors.

As expected, flowers were sent from Nanami, Shigeru's sister, as well as from my mother and Ookido-Hakase. Kasumi sent a small azure and white combination. Haruka and her family ordered a massive production of red and yellow flowers, whereas Fu and Lan, Tokusane's gym leaders, sent a subtle bouquet of creamy white flowers. There was even a purple, red and white bouquet mysteriously sent by **コ**, **ム** and pawprint.

Smiling to myself, I turn my attention towards the cards. I look over them quickly, spotting the addresses of Hiroshi, and Kasumi among the dispatchers, but I'm surprised to find one from Julia Ookido as well. The last time I spoke with Shigeru's wife, she had been decidedly cool to me, and I wonder why she is concerned for my well-being now. Upon opening it, though, I find childish scribbling (the twins' writing attempt, I assumed) and Julia's neat translation beneath it.

The envelopes are marked with postage from all over Jouto, Kanto and Houen alike. Some senders I recognize, but others are long-lost memories I can barely recall, or trainers I had never met but were inspired by my title. I pick up the stack, deciding to read through them somewhere more comfortable. As I pass my video phone, I note the red message light flashing beside the darkened screen. My smile grows wider as I start playing back the recorded tape.

"Satoshi, you bugger! How dare you get sick–" began Kasumi's message; she tosses her fiery red hair behind her shoulder and continues on her tirade until the machine cuts her off. Next, my mother describes the troubles she had trying to book a flight from Tokiwa and sends her love to me. The following call message came from Haruka, who serenely greets me, cupping her chin in her hands as she smiles and leans conspiratorially close to the camera. She sends good wishes, tells me about her progress on her Contest centre, and reminds me of our promise to visit each other soon.

Surprisingly, the final phone message came from Daigo Tsuwabuki, Houen's defending Champion. In his recording, he is sharply dressed in a suit, his hair carefully set in place. I feel a calm respectfulness involuntarily come over me as I await his recorded words.

Daigo's voice is smooth and subtly powerful as he says, "Master Satoshi, this message comes to you on behalf of the Elite Four, Houen division." I swallow thickly; this doesn't seem like a 'feel better soon' type of message. Typically a region's Elite Four contacts me only if something is wrong or if someone was vying for the Master title in their region.

Daigo continues, as if reading a script from memory, "It has come to our attention that the public is growing increasingly aware of your current residence. It could not be helped, but your illness has informed the media of your home in Tokusane."

I'm slightly disappointed that his call didn't involve a trainer who defeated him, perhaps a new challenger to my title. My focus trails away and I roll my eyes; I know Daigo is about to recite some rules in my contract as Master. Being the Master, I have to remain under the public's radar and appear only when the Elite Four sanctions it, as in commercials or at public spectacles. This wasn't the first time I've had trouble keeping my whereabouts a secret.

Sure enough, Daigo does exactly this recitation, droning on for what feels like forever. "If public awareness grows too high, we will have to ask for your relocation once more. Please recall our desire for secrecy is in your best interests," Daigo finishes. As if it's an afterthought, he adds, "Feel better soon."

The videophone screen flickers to black and I'm left alone, feeling like an admonished child. I can't help if public interest surged since my stint in the hospital….

I glance at the clock and find it is still ages away from lunch time. I fleetingly wonder whether Shigeru will come home for the meal or not. I haven't been awake for lunch since he returned to work. I feel even worse when I realize that Yukiko is supposed to be coming in today; Shigeru won't be home until late this evening, if at all, meaning I'll be left alone for even longer than normal.

Sighing to myself, I pick up the card pile off the table and head back into the living room and, slumping down on the couch, I start opening envelopes with less enthusiasm than I had felt not ten minutes ago.

* * *

Shigeru, it seems, packs a lunch to work. I wait until one-thirty before resigning to the fact that he's not coming home. I rifle through the fridge, trying to find something appealing and easy to make, but the two properties seem to be mutually exclusive. I settle on a box of dry cereal, carrying it back to the couch and eating handfuls directly from the bag.

I had finished with the cards over an hour ago, leaving me with little to do with my time. I find myself glancing repeatedly at the clock, hoping that time would somehow fast-forward to tonight, when I'd have company once again. It doesn't, though, so I settle on watching the television for a while. I turn onto an old movie, readying myself for familiar hours of lying before the TV in a mindless stupor.

It feels like…before. Before Shigeru had shown up on my doorstep. I would spend my days alone at home, sometimes needing to be around other people but most time not. Some days I would flit amongst the public, keeping to myself to avoid the attention of others. But it was just easier to stay home; no one could stumble across you there.

I sigh and look out the window behind me, partially hoping to see Shigeru step out of a cab and up the walkway to my home. To see him when he didn't know I was watching, like at the hospital. He had seemed casual and self-assured then. Around me, when we were alone, he doesn't seem like that at all. I wonder again what Shigeru is really like as a person.

I stop my introspection and turn back to the television. Sinking down into the couch, I let my focus slip away and just watch the screen, letting my brain avoid such heavy, distracting topics as Shigeru. My tedium is broken, however, shortly after five o'clock. Outside, I hear a vehicle pull up to the curb and a car door slam shut. Frowning, I sit upright and straighten my clothes.

Crap. He's not going to be happy when he sees I'm not in bed.

Before Shigeru can arrive inside, I force myself off the couch and dash up the stairs, feeling groggy and coughing as I round the corner and creak my bedroom door shut. I try to look convincingly asleep in bed as I hear the front door shut and Shigeru sigh tiredly as he kicks off his shoes and drops his satchel. My head is pounding from the extra effort I'd just made to get upstairs, but it'll be worth it if Shigeru doesn't catch on….

I try to sound tired as I call out, "I'm in here."

I hear his footsteps stop in the hall and, soon enough, Shigeru arrives at my door. I reach over to the night stand and turn on the lamp.

"You've done better than I thought, Sato. Didn't expect you to be in bed," Shigeru says slowly, leaning on my doorframe. "I thought you were 'desperate for freedom'."

"I can follow orders. Sometimes," I reply, numbly wishing I was a more convincing liar.

"Huh." Shigeru clicks his tongue and walks slowly to my bed. His hand moves pensively to his chin as he says, "I saw the TV on downstairs, and your comforter is on the couch."

Damnit.

"Oh?" I swallow thickly, trying to hide the action by pulling up my remaining blankets. "That's weird."

Shigeru scoffs, shaking his head disbelievingly. His false aloofness drops as he says, "Don't take me for an idiot. I knew that once I left the house, you'd be running around and not resting."

I wave my arm down my body length, bringing my reclined position to his attention. "This qualifies as 'resting', doesn't it? And a couch works just as well as a bed," I reply, smirking to myself. "Besides, I slept all yesterday, and the afternoon before _that_ too. That was enough 'resting' for me."

Shigeru sighs heavily and continues to shake his head.

Changing the topic, I ask, "Why're you home? I thought you and Yukiko were going out for supper."

Shigeru frowns and stuffs his hands into his pockets. "We had to postpone."

"What - why?"

"She got to Kogane Airport's customs this morning, but they turned her away." Shigeru walks over to the bedside before continuing, "One of the young Otachi she was delivering was ill."

I furrow my brow. "So she couldn't fly with them?"

Shigeru shakes his head. "Not will ill monsters," he explains. "They'd quarantine the baby for a month minimum until it could be officially considered healthy. Kiko's just going to try again later."

"Damn," I say, the disappointment in my voice genuine. "Too bad you couldn't see her."

"Another time," Shigeru shrugs. "Anyways, I still have dinner reservations that are going to waste."

I watch his body language shift slightly, his shoulders tightening up and his breath becoming more constrained. I think back to my earlier observation, about how he always seems agitated, even borderline tense, in my presence. I don't see him fully unwind.

Shigeru's voice sounds on casual, but I sense some nervousness as he says, "I was thinking, since you're so eager to rejoin the land of the living, maybe you'd want to put the reservations to use and go out for supper tonight."

"Really?" I smile widely, genuinely surprised. "I pass your health inspection then?"

"I suppose," Shigeru says sardonically, grinning lightly to himself. His shoulders relax as he adds, "We should arrive there in less than an hour, so you'd better get dressed and we'll get going."

"What should I wear?"

Shigeru shrugs. "It's a damn nice restaurant. Lose the pajamas, for a start."

"Smartass," I mutter. Shifting my legs over the side of the bed, I shoo him out the door and start changing my clothes.

* * *

Shigeru's description of the restaurant was an understatement: it was a gorgeous, formal yet comfortable building near downtown Tokusane. Situated on the corner of one block, its exterior was composed primarily of a dark wall of smoky, tinted glass. Only by pressing my face against it could I faintly see tables and decorations inside. A nice, private place; I could see why Shigeru selected it.

Our conversation over dinner was pleasant and light, the smoothest it has been since my days at the hospital. Our off-putting morning was all but forgotten, and I was grateful for that fact. And Shigeru seemed happy despite Yukiko's absence; he made it known that he was glad I was nearing perfect health once again.

Once we finish eating and split the bill, we stand outside the restaurant and watch the street. I note the dozens of taxicabs patrolling the area, taking advantage of the evening's peak hours for customers. I stand close to Shigeru, our arms lightly brushing, and wonder what we will do next. Shigeru and I don't call a cab over, though, not yet; he hasn't said it, but I can tell Shigeru is considering we go somewhere besides home first. We walk, following the sidewalk, and enjoy the clear night and each other's company.

"So…what do you think?" Shigeru asks.

"Damn nice restaurant," I say sardonically, bringing a grin to Shigeru's face.

"Yukiko hates the place," he replies, shaking his head and smiling to himself. "She'd rather go to a street vendor or café, but I like to take her someplace special when she's in town."

"Special, you say?"

"I like to treat her well. All my friends well." His gaze drops as he adds, "I used to bring Jules here a lot, during university."

"Was this your 'date' restaurant, eh Shigeru?" I say teasingly. In the dusky light of the evening, I fail to notice Shigeru's revealing expression.

"Kind of."

We pass a crowded café, its honey-colored lights softening the space between us. We don't talk much, but our silence is comfortable and warm. I cough lightly into a closed fist.

"Are you doing okay?" he asks, referring to my cough. "Not too tired yet?"

"Nope," I nod vehemently. "I think I'm finally better." Shigeru slowly nods in turn. Finally I cannot wait any longer; I ask, "So what should we do now?"

"I dunno." An awkward pause, then: "You have a preference?"

I shrug, uncertain. "Coffee?" I say, grabbing his arm and pointing towards the café.

"We just had supper…." Shigeru says slowly, his eyes on my hold.

I drop my grip and poke him teasingly. "Fine, smartass, you decide."

We continue walking, crossing the occasional street during our search for some activity. I don't feel bored, though; I just enjoy Shigeru walking beside me.

"What're you thinking about?" I ask after another block walked in silence.

Clearing his throat, Shigeru shrugs. Gazing at me thoughtfully, Shigeru asks, "I've been thinking about how much time we've changed. Since we were trainers."

"I'm still a trainer."

"Yes, but I'm not."

I frown, not certain where he was going with this topic. "You still have your monsters, don't you?" He nods, so I say, "Technically, you're still a trainer then."

"My ID card lapsed years ago." Shigeru watches the ground before him, shrugging one shoulder. "That's not what I meant when I brought up – I meant, Sato… You're the Master, right? So…" he pauses, mulling over his words. I wait, my breath held, for him to continue on a subject I was starting to dread.

Finally he says, "I remember seeing you with hoards of friends throughout Kanto and Jouto. But presently, barring my company, you spend your time alone. That's alright, I guess," Shigeru adds when he sees my upset expression, hastily retracting his statement, "but the thing that bothers me about it is… just…why aren't your monsters here with you, Sato? Especially Pi–"

I stop walking, waiting for him to say the name I don't want to hear. He stops beside me, and some vague sense tells Shigeru to halt his sentence.

Still, he rephrases and asks, "Why don't you keep your Pokemon with you anymore, Sato?"

I don't answer him immediately. Despite all the lead up and my incoming dread, the question still catches me by surprise. I look around for some way to change the topic and am surprised to see a half-dozen people standing nearby, watching us. I'm distracted by the small crowd building nearby. It's subtle, but they watch us and talk amongst themselves.

Shit, someone must have recognized me….

Shigeru is oblivious, however, still awaiting my response. "Geru, not right now," I say.

"But I want to know –" he begins, but I tersely cut him and gesture towards the sidewalk. Shigeru follows my gaze to the people floating a half-block away, whispering amongst themselves as they face us.

"Let's go," I tell him sternly. Daigo and the Elite Four's reprimand is still fresh in my mind. Surprisingly, Shigeru agrees to leave without argument.

We flag a cab quickly, crawling one after the other into the back seat. I recite my block's number and we leave downtown Tokusane. Shigeru respects my silence and avoids continuing our discussion in front of the cab driver. Only once we are safely back home do we talk again; the accidental crowd-building has made me petulant, clamming me up. Shigeru follows my lead and respects my lack of conversation. I pay for the cab and we exit into my house.

"Does that happen a lot?" Shigeru asks me, unable to contain himself. "I have some notoriety as well, but I can still move to a new city and not be recognized in the public at large. Plus, I've never had spontaneous crowds like that before…."

I nod, relieved he picked something different to talk about. "Usually it takes a couple months of me living somewhere for the locals start to recognize me," I tell him. I think of the paparazzi at the hospital. Shrugging my coat off, I add, "Maybe one of the local papers said I've been spotted in Tokusane, and that's triggered awareness with everyone."

Shigeru agrees. Chuckling noncommittally, he says, "I suppose the carefree life of a Master needs some downsides, eh?"

Instead of confirming his comment, I clear my throat awkwardly. Changing the subject, I ask, "So have you thought of anything for us to do yet? The night is young…."

Shigeru doesn't voice what has been idly passing through his mind, distracting him more and more as of late; he can't. His thoughts are clogged by simple scenarios where he moves in closer to me, too close, and seals the evening's finale.

"I dunno," he says finally, his throat working over the words. His gaze drops distractedly away. "If I were at home, Jules and I would passive-aggressively ignore each other. If I were alone, I'd probably just read some research journals until I fall asleep."

"You're boring," I joke, smiling at him. Shigeru follows me as I walk to the stairs, his eyes narrowed, and I add sincerely, "But it sounds better than what I would do."

"And what's that?"

I shrug, embarrassed. "Odds are I would sit on the sofa and watch traffic until I felt tired and went to bed."

"You don't sleep well normally, do you?" Shigeru quietly asks. By this time, we have moved upstairs, to the crest of the staircase.

I'm caught off-guard; I didn't think Shigeru had noticed my often-erratic sleeping patterns, particularly since my recent pneumonia had me sleeping all day and night. I scratch my head, lowly admitting, "I've had insomnia since moving to Tokusane. Since before then, actually, but it got worse when I moved here."

"D'you know why?" he asks, leaning against the doorframe to his room. He crosses his arms, watching me with interest.

I shrug again. "Who knows why?" My answer is a cop-out, I know, and Shigeru wants to question further. He's piecing together his own explanations.

My suspicions are confirmed when, too accurately for my liking, he says, "Maybe it's because Pikachuu isn't with you anymore."

"Maybe," I say uncomfortably.

Most times, I try to keep Pikachuu from my mind. Just hearing his name gives me a stomachache, my muscles tightening and my mood sinking low. Thinking about my closest friend for too long leaves me in a depressed funk that lingers long after I've forgotten what drove me into it. Unwonted at Shigeru's words, I recall all our voyages together, the battles – the last battle we had together. Pikachuu driving the finishing blow into the previous Master's monster. The elation we felt together as we finally reached our goal. That final, frenzied celebration….

"Sato?" Shigeru asks worriedly. I don't know why he sounds distressed; I look up from the floor, but my gaze on him is blurry and out of focus. My eyes feel full.

"Shit," I say quickly, realizing what is wrong and turning my face away. Wiping my hand roughly over my eyes, I hope that Shigeru didn't notice what just happened. But he has been watching me closely, and I doubt very much that he couldn't see.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't've–" Shigeru begins, but I'm not paying attention to him; moving as quickly as possible, I stomp towards the bathroom.

"Sorry, excuse me," I mumble as I shut the door. Once inside, I exhale heavily and slide down the door, slowly coming to rest on the cold tile floor. Crossing my arms over my knees, I support my forehead against my fist. Breathing deep and slow, I feel a swell of emotion in me, one that I often ignore. That feeling of loneliness, ever-present and hidden in the back of my mind, washes over me as I think about Shigeru's words.

When we were trainers, we were different. He had argued he wasn't a trainer, not anymore but… _I feel that way now_. I'm not a trainer anymore.

Since becoming the Master, I haven't met people I could trust for liking me and not the title I held. I couldn't battle whoever I wanted, which was what I enjoyed about being a trainer. Now, I can barely recall the rush of near-defeat, the ecstasy and excitement of pulling a victory out from beneath your opponent's nose. It's been so long since I've celebrated a triumph with my monsters, the group of us combining into one frenzied crowd of elation. Did I really achieve so much by gaining the title? Was it really worth the isolation it pushed upon me, setting me apart from other trainers?

_No_, I immediately answer myself, _it wasn't worth it_.

My enjoyment of being a trainer diminished as soon as my battles were restricted. Without a reason to continually train, I lost the bond I held with my monsters; we no longer had battling to keep us connected. We didn't celebrate as we had before. I had to often move about the country in order to keep my home a secret. No one kept in touch with me long-distance for very long, or if they did then it was sporadic at best.

My monsters weren't with me, my friends had no reason to travel with me anymore; everyone left, and I have nothing to show for all my years of work besides a stupid title and a little house in Tokusane. The title wasn't worth all that I had lost. Nothing could be worth that.

"Sato?" I hear Shigeru, muffled through the wooden door. He raps his knuckles quietly. "You okay?"

"It's nothing," I reply, my voice sounding too loud in this small room. I hastily scrub my hand against my eyelids, smearing the salt trails until they never existed. I stand and tap my palms against my cheeks, willing myself to buck up and act normal. Inhaling deeply and trying to smile, I turn the doorknob and open the door.

Shigeru stands immediately by the bathroom, his face marred with concern. My voice is thick and I don't even believe the lie I tell him, "I'm just really tired; I need to get some sleep." I give him a weak, unconvincing grin.

He is dissatisfied with my answer, I can tell, but he doesn't press further; instead, he nods slowly and drops his gaze from mine. I sidestep him and return to the hall, trying to somehow politely exit into my room. I stop outside my opened door and peer back at Shigeru. Mock-cheerfully, I ask, "You going to bed too?"

He walks slowly to me, his arms crossed over his chest and his teeth gnawing on his lower lip. He stops mere feet before me, his gaze pensive but demoralized, directed at the floor. He seems so serious that I have to turn and face him forthright.

Leaning in close, Shigeru quietly says, "I'll let you go now, if you really want to Sato, but I'd rather you tell me what's wrong." Stepping back, his eyes train on mine and he says, "If not tonight, then soon."

I bob my head up and down, my throat choking up. I cross my arms in a failed attempt to mirror his calm. Shigeru doesn't say anything else; he doesn't have to. His gaze is attentive, warm with concern, and I can't help it; something inside me breaks. I look pleadingly to the ceiling, wishing I could either find the words I wanted to say or avoid saying them completely. I begin, my voice thick, "It's just–"

"Being Master is the shittiest thing that's ever happen to me," I tell him, ruefully smiling as I spill the words.

He frowns momentarily, shocked that this was my answer. Shigeru quickly recovers, asking, "How so?"

I shrug, feeling lousy as I say, "I battle maybe one person a year, if I'm lucky. Not many qualify to be my opponents. I've lost connection with my Pokemon…. I stopped trusting most people and m-making new friends." I pause in my explanation, struggling to maintain control of my emotions. Shigeru watches me thoughtfully in this time, waiting for me to continue. "M-my old friends, I barely see or talk to anymore. Even when we do, it doesn't feel the same as it used to; we aren't carefree, o-or even as or friendly or close as we were before...."

I breathe in deeply, willing myself to remain calm. "Everyone's moved on in their lives except _me, _and I can't do a thing about it because I'm _stuck_ until someone comes along and takes away my title...."

I frown, my face contorting terribly, and Shigeru takes a step closer than socially acceptable. "Shigeru, I'm just…_alone,_" I say, my voice sounding traitorously close to a whimper, "And I'm glad that you're here...." I squeeze my eyes shut, willing them to behave and keep dry.

Shigeru doesn't say anything; how could he? Instead, unexpectedly, Shigeru places his hand on my shoulder, giving it a tight squeeze. I bob my head again, trying to convey that I appreciate his gesture. His hand glides to the back of my neck, cupping the side of my head as he pulls my forehead to his, touching them together. I feel both energized and calmed by his gesture, the physical contact unfamiliar after being without it for so long.

My heartbeat races as I halfheartedly try to understand what I'm feeling. My attention is mostly on the sensation of his arms, of the comfort I feel with him so near. I release a small sigh as one of his hand slides through my hair.

I pull away, my forehead reluctant to part from his and, without worrying about the consequences, I slip my arms over his back and pull him close. Shigeru responds by wrapping his arms tightly around me. A dry sob escapes my lips, the hurt I'd been suffering from pouring out. I push my face into his neck, his chest rising and falling in time as he breathes, the motion subconsciously soothing me.

"I'm sorry," Shigeru whispers finally, his hands wound tightly upon my back. "I wish I'd known."

"Yeah, well," I scoff. Chuckling weakly into him, I say, "You're the first."

He clears his throat and steps back, loosening his hold. I keep my arms around him, unwilling to break contact just yet. When I look at Shigeru, he rolls his eyes and shakes his head self-deprecatingly. "I'm trying to think of something clever and lighthearted to say, to make you feel better," he finally admits, smirking to himself.

"Shigeru, at a loss for witty comebacks?" I ask, mock-affronted. "I wish that happened more when we were trainers."

Shigeru's face hardens. "I said I was sorry about that, right? Because I am sorry."

"The why'd you act like that?" I ask quietly.

Shigeru grimaces and looks over my head, as if searching for the words to say. Clicking his tongue and taking a step backward, he fully breaks our contact and gazes to the floor between us. "Look, don't freak out but…" he begins. His words sound as if they are forcefully dragged from him. "When we were trainers, I had…"

I am watching him attentively, my behavior calm and controlled as I anticipate his response. His breath hitches, and Shigeru exhales deeply. He says shakily, "I had a cr…." I wait for him to continue, but he doesn't. Or can't, perhaps; he looks physically stuck in his sentence.

Finally Shigeru shakes his head. He looks disappointed in himself as he says, "Nothing. It was nothing, really, it just made me act stupid at the time. I didn't know what to do about it, so I ended up doing the worst thing possible."

I nod, not trusting myself to speak. This was the closest I've ever come to getting a straight answer from him.

Shigeru nervously rubs his neck. "Will you be…okay, now?"

"Yeah. Sorry," I let loose a humorless laugh, "I didn't mean to have a breakdown tonight."

"N-no, it's okay, Sato. Don't worry about it."

We stand awkwardly near one another, neither willing to leave for our respective bedrooms. Finally Shigeru grips my upper arm, giving it an informal nudge, and we part ways like nervous strangers. I say, "Good night."

I pause in the doorway to my room, waiting to hear the lock on Shigeru's door click shut. I peek back over my shoulder, catch sight of Shigeru doing the same with me. I quickly continue in to my room, closing the door and releasing a shaky breath I had been holding far too long. Changing for bed, I lie down atop my covers and stare vapidly at the ceiling. I lay there for hours in the darkness, seldom moving, my mind subconsciously churning over something I wasn't aware of. I rest my hands on my chest, feeling my heart beat with a rhythm I had never felt before.

Something had changed in me. I felt…empty, yet not in a sad way. It was a calm, soothing kind of empty, as if I was awaiting the arrival of something important. I didn't feel so disconnected anymore; acknowledging the suffering helped me realized what had gone wrong in my life. This calm feeling wouldn't last, I realized, so I decided to enjoy it while I could.

Running my hand down my rib cage and over my stomach, I enjoy the simple sensations they trail as their journey pauses beneath my navel. Tracing idle circles on my skin, my mind strangely devoid of thought, I feel a warmth that hadn't been there before and a flush on my face that had nothing to do with illness. I glance to the door and, imagining I could see to Shigeru's room, wonder if what he was feeling in this moment was anything like this strange brew in my body. I try not to think too much, to just gather courage as a revelation struck me full-fold.

-0-0-0-0-

The hardest thing, I find, about writing is deciding where chapter breaks should be. I have two competing philosophies that I try to satisfy. First, my writing style tends toward long, drawn out, and slow-developing. Next, I don't like to make chapters longer than five thousand words. Unfortunately, I think my pacing gets affected as a result of this length barrier. What do you think? How long is "too long" for a chapter?

Last question. When it comes to battles, which would better suit your understanding of the events: solely Japanese Pokemon names, or a mixture of both Japanese and English? That is, Japanese in the description of the events, but English if its name is spoken aloud. Example: 'Using its long tail as a launching device, Ootachi jumps into the range of Poppo. "Finish him, Furret!" the trainer cried, spurring Ootachi on.' Tell me which way would be less confusing.

That's all. Send me a PM if you don't feel like leaving your thoughts in a review, but I would appreciate some input about the questions nonetheless.

Final statement: you guys are made of kick-ass and awesome. In fact, about 50% kick-ass and 85% awesome (_I'm a writer, damnit, not a mathematician!_). XOXO Leika


	11. Chapter Eleven

Author's Note P1: Some new names are in this chapter, plus many that've been seen before; Nyuura is Sneasel, and Fu and Lan are Tate and Liza from Tokusane's gym. Masara is Pallet. Back when I first wrote this, the evolution for Nyuura (named Manyula/Weavile) was speculated but unconfirmed. It is less interesting now that we know it exists. Oh the times, they are a-changing.

Author's Note P2: Did you know you guys rock? True fact. I am ridiculously happy when I see such feedback from the community. Just reading your comments makes me go "Bzuhh _thenextchaptermustbebetter_!" And thank you to everyone who sent me PMs or reviewed with their responses to my questions; you've made my work a whole lot easier :)

Disclaimer: I do not own Pokémon or its characters. The story is a work of fiction and in no way shall money be made from this endeavor. Unauthorized reproduction or copying of this fiction is not allowed (aka do not copy/post/save to your hard drive or elsewhere).

Melody of a Memory  
By Leika Lai

Chapter Eleven

In my dreams, I return to the fields of Masara town. The sky is always bright blue and stretches unbroken to the hills along the western horizon. The grass around me has grown long and thick in the summer heat, and it laps in the breeze like ocean waves. I stand knee-deep in the green and spread my arms wide, closing my eyes as I absorb the sun's warmth. I just breathe, feeling the simple rush of living and the tingle of freedom and possibility before me, the fresh and endless opportunities of the day. I could do anything here.

The dream echoes the feeling of personal challenge, of a goal to reach, that I'd felt every day of being a trainer. It's what makes the day – the real one, after waking – so long and dull. That day is stagnant. The same prospects offered and no hope for growth, nothing to look forward to. Just the routine of waking, eating, and waiting.

It sounds stupid, putting so much emphasis on a simple dream. Yet when I don't have much left to look forward to, the simple things suddenly become the most important. Just that feeling…it's enough.

I stretch my arms again, slowly breathing as the dreamy, summer breeze rolls over me, and I slump back on the hillside. I'm wearing my trainer jacket again, I idly notice, something that had been packed away in the basement back in Tokusane. The old hat I won in a contest rests beside my backpack, to my far right on the hill. I smile, remembering the journey through Kanto and Jouto, the final stretch through Houen. The highs and lows that met me and my friends along the way.

Like every version of this dream, to my left a half-dozen paces are Takeshi, Kasumi and Haruka. They sit atop a plain table cloth, and Takeshi dishes up three plates of a meal he prepared on a small fire nearby. Pikachuu sits lazily on Haruka's lap, his eyes closed as he clearly enjoys the soft petting she gives his ears.

"What are you making?" I ask Takeshi, but he doesn't respond. He never does, not here.

"C'mon, let's eat!" Haruka laughs, her eyes like sapphires in the sunlight. "The food will be cold soon."

"Like we'd turn down Takeshi's cooking," Kasumi mutters to Haruka, giving her a teasing grin.

My smile fades and I say nothing. Instead, I shift down in the slippery slope, reclining until I am sprawled flat amongst the tall grass. The greenery feels cool and silky against my skin, and I close my eyes as I savour this moment, the one that comes before waking.

"What about you?" Takeshi calls in my direction, pausing in his dishing of food. "Do you want some?"

I hear a voice, one that is unfamiliar to this place, reply, "Not right now."

I frown, my eyes still closed. I feel a shadow fall onto my face and, turning to the right, I see Shigeru stretched out beside me. His upper body is propped up on one elbow and he looks effortless in his old travel clothing, his pendant shifting with the breeze. Relaxed and casually confident, how I remembered him. He looks like he belongs here.

A long blade of grass dances through his fingertips, and when Shigeru finally smiles at me, my stomach feels light.

"What are you doing here?" I ask quietly. This is strange. He's never–

Shigeru shrugs with one arm, his attention returning to the grass blade. "I grew up in Masara too, y'know."

"But you aren't here. You never were." I halt, suddenly pensive. "Not when I needed you."

"I am now though, aren't I?" He turns to fully face me. "Doesn't that count?"

The breeze plays with his auburn hair, tousling it into his eyes. His gaze is locked on mine as I try to gauge his measure.

"I don't know if I can trust you," I say finally, glancing away. I watch as he traces the grass along my right forearm, the touch a light, hair-raising graze across my bare skin. Swallowing thickly, I say, "I don't know who you are anymore."

"Did you ever?"

"No. But that's not what matters."

"You're right. It doesn't," Shigeru says. His mouth pulls into a coy, alluring grin. "What matters is I'm here."

I start to smile, not trusting myself to speak. Shigeru falls silent as he glides the grass blade up my arm, over my shoulder and across my clavicle. His face dips closer as he toys it along my neck and his gaze finally lowers from mine, dropping instead to the leaf as it ghosts along my jaw line. He says thoughtfully, "What do you want? More than anything?"

Shigeru half-closes his eyes, waiting for my response. He is rapt with attention upon me.

I glance to my left, hoping that one of my friends has been interested in our conversation. I need advice on what to do. Instead, I see Kasumi, Haruka and Takeshi talking amongst themselves, completely oblivious to our exchange. Pikachuu watches me but does not step closer; he just looks on in a sad way. I want to wave my arm at them but I already know I won't catch their attention. Can't catch their attention. They seem so far away. Dropping that impulse, I turn back to Shigeru.

My voice is barely above a whisper, drowned out in the soft breeze. "I don't want to be alone anymore." I frown, trying to control the bucking emotions within me.

Shigeru nods and slowly leans over me. His hair brushes my forehead, the auburn wisps ebbing in the breeze. I move my hands up his forearms, onto his shoulders. Shigeru is so close he could graze his lips over my cheek, which he does, lazily mapping my heated skin. He mouth presses full and warm against the shell of my ear as he whispers his reply. My eyes shut tight as I wrap my arms around him; I stifle a sob and bury my face into the crook of his neck.

In the distance, I hear the breeze gently sweep through the fields of Masara, bringing with it hope once more.

* * *

Mornings should never happen, I decide. Or afternoons, or evenings. Let me never wake up.

I cover my face with my arm and groan miserably; that stupid dream again, haunting me for days on end. My stomach churns, stirring up a confusing flurry of emotions. I groan and bury my face in the pillow, feeling a lovely/guilty sensation crawl up my abdomen and take residence in the base of my throat. I sigh, revelling in my body's electric feel, then reach over the side of the bed and heft up my fallen blankets.

It takes a half-hour, but I muster up the energy to actually leave the bed. A glance at the clock and I know it's past noon. Without bothering to change from my pyjama shirt and shorts, I shuffle down the stairs, eventually reaching the kitchen. I pilfer through the cupboards and find some cereal, grab a bowl, and set both items on the table. After a few more heartbeats, I decide to get the milk and spoon to complete this ensemble.

I look at the kitchen clock, noting how not enough time has passed yet. It will still be a long time coming – Shigeru won't be back from work until late tonight.

The cereal turns soggy before I manage to eat it. I flush the dregs down the sink and wash up the dishes, leaving them on the counter to air dry. I head to the front door; maybe there will be something in the paper to keep me entertained. However, I see the pile of mail on the front table and know that Shigeru has beaten me to the punch. He must have brought in the newspaper before he left this morning. I smudge my fingers over the inky paper and half-grin to myself, imagining him fitting such a mundane task into his busy schedule.

Julia and he were at court at least twice a week now, afternoons. From the terse words I manage to drag out of him, Shigeru said that custody for their two daughters was now under consideration as well. He doesn't talk about it much.

He wasn't home very often either. Said that work was eating up most of his spare time, that his co-workers had been given a tricky case while he was gone and he was now coerced into guiding their studies. Some nights he wasn't home until one, other nights not at all. On those rare evenings, I sit absentmindedly on the couch and watch the street through half-closed blinds, waiting with idle hope that one of the passing cars might stop at my front door.

I sigh to myself and sit on the sofa, returning to my familiar position – elbows on the backboard, arms folded beneath my chin, vacant stare out the window. The grey sky outside mutes the colors in the world, making everything feel dreamlike and motionless. A knot in my stomach churns.

* * *

"How can you stand sleeping this late?"

My eyes flare open at the sound of his voice, coming from somewhere by the front hall. Disoriented, I roll onto my side and look around the room without comprehension. Without thinking I blurt, "What're you doing home?" I sit up too quickly and must stare at the clock until it makes sense. "It's…"

"Five," Shigeru finishes, stepping away from the hallway and into the living room. "Meaning, you should be up by now. Why're you sleeping on the couch, anyways?"

I sigh, letting my head fall back onto the armrest with a firm thump, an unwonted grin slipping onto my face. He saunters to the foot end of the sofa, dressed in a dark suit and white cotton shirt. Striking. I ask again, this time more coherently, "Why are you home?"

Shigeru scoffs. "My, aren't we happy…"

"I mean, why so early? You're never home this time of day."

"I'd've called, except you don't answer your phone," he says, slowly sitting down; I edge over my legs to give him space. His hands fold upon themselves. "I thought… Well, Lan was at the office today, and she invited us out for supper."

I frown. "How did she know there was an 'us' to invite. Why wasn't just a 'you' invited?"

"I mentioned you. Said I saw the flowers she and her brother sent when you were ill." Shigeru shrugs. "There's a group of us from work going anyways, so…" He trails off. "It's pretty casual."

Somehow, I doubted that Lan often went to research laboratories. In my gut, I think Shigeru put her up to including me. I scowl again, wary of this invitation. "I don't wanna go."

"C'mon, Sato," Shigeru sighs heavily, staring me down. "You need to get out more."

"Not really."

Bunkering down, I say nothing. Shigeru gives a measured look, as if trying to determine the veracity of my claim. Whatever he sees, I realize, he doesn't like.

"It was nice of her to think of you. You should take her up on the offer." He says reproachfully, "You need to socialize with people other than me."

"No, I don't." I turn towards the back of the couch, crossing my arms in a petulant way.

"Please."

The word almost takes me aback; I'm not used to hearing him say it. Still, I don't respond.

Shigeru bites his lip and turns away. It is a long moment before he calmly replies, "I'll tell her you can't come then." Rising from the cushion, he glances down at me and adds in a resigned tone, "I better get going, they'll be waiting."

"Geru, stop," I groan, trying my best to sit up quickly. I grab at his wrist as he turns, pulling him back temporarily. "Don't be mad, I just…" I chew my lower lip. "I don't feel like seeing Lan. I'm not ready to." _Not for being around other people_.

It feels like forever before he finally responds. "Alright. This time. But," he adds, turning to face me forthright again. "You owe me. I ask you to come to something again, you gotta go."

"Like what, exactly?" I ask. Shigeru's not much of a social butterfly, despite his network of trainers and researcher colleagues.

He gestures widely with his free arm, a signal that I don't understand. Looking suddenly lost, he scratches at his cheek and says, "Maybe a couple events with friends this week, I don't know. There's some…stuff coming up that I'm waiting to confirm will happen. Might be nice to go. _If_ work will allow it…"

I look down at my hand, wondering at the sobriety of his tone. Smirking, I reply, "Who're these 'friends' you're talking about? I didn't think you had any."

Shigeru half-heartedly punches my arm and shakes his head a final time, sneaking a wry grin in my direction. He relinquishes my hold and turns away without answering my question. "Alright," he says finally, "I must go. Try not to exhaust yourself."

"Yes, dear."

Shigeru rolls his eyes and heads back to the front door. "Again, I'll be late tonight. Seriously, stop waiting up for me."

"Why would I, with that attitude..."

"Right," he says distractedly as he puts on his shoes. "And eat something. Get takeout for supper, you can afford it."

I feign pouting. "Alright fine, spoilsport."

I sit quietly until I hear the front door shut and lock behind him. It takes a long time for the room to shift back to grey. I rest against the armrest and listen to the drumming of my heart slowly return to normal. I try not to take his absence to heart.

* * *

The day had been labelled 'boring' shortly after Shigeru left and remained so until late evening. I dozed off again sometime around six, then got up and made the arduous trek to the kitchen. Since nine I'd found myself just moping by the front door, watching with dull anticipation as vehicles drove by my house, their headlights wistfully illuminating the darkened sky. The blanket I'd pulled from my bed slowly slides off my lap and piles into a mess on the floor by the couch. I'm not paying attention to it, though; one of the taxis will bring him here, from Lan's-or-the-laboratory. Eventually.

As if my thoughts summoned it, a cab pulls up to the curb and I shortly hear the front door rattling as the lock receives a key. I break from my thoughts and make my best attempt to look like I'd been awake the entire night as Shigeru opens the door and enters the darkened hallway. I hear his weary sigh, the keys jangling as he tosses them on the front stand, and his shoes as they hit the mat. Within a few heartbeats, he crosses the living room's threshold and thumps into the recliner across from me. I try not to stare as Shigeru drops his briefcase and a brown bag onto the ground. I catch a whiff of greasy, delicious take-out food.

Lacking creativity, I say, "Hi."

He leans forward, his elbows propped upon his knees. "Why're you sitting in the dark?" he murmurs, his hand masking his face. Through the shadows, I catch Shigeru rubbing his temples in a less-than-pleased manner.

I shrug, glancing back at the window behind the couch to hide my smile. "Car-watching. Can't see them with the lights on – casts glare on the windows."

"Huh."

Although I don't see it, I can imagine Shigeru ever-deprecating headshake. I curl my legs beneath me and try to contain my enthusiasm as I say, "You haven't made it back before midnight this whole week. This the start of a new trend?"

"Keeping track, are we?" Shigeru sighs again. "Everyone was tired, so we called it quits early."

"We?"

"Fu and Lan. Some co-workers too. We ended up bringing take-out back to the lab. Typical." Shigeru picks up the brown bag and my stomach lets loose a treacherous growl. I clamp my arms over my abdomen, but it's too late. "Hungry, Sato?" Shigeru lightly chuckles. "Didn't you eat?"

I shrug, grateful for the darkness – at least he can't see my pink cheeks. "Just forgot, s'all."

"Thought that might've been the case," he says quietly, "so I brought home my share of the leftovers, on the 'off-chance' you were awake still."

He sighs again and, with seemingly great effort, launches off the recliner and takes a seat beside me. Dropping the bag onto the coffee table, he hands me a food carton. The boxes of Chinese food are warm, freshly ordered. I decide not to call him on his lie.

"Thanks," I say, cracking off the lid. Shigeru passes me a pair of chopsticks as I ask, "This from the place down–?"

"–Downtown, a half-dozen blocks away? Yeah."

I nod. "I like that place."

Setting to work on the food, I pretend to focus my attention onto eating. Shigeru fills his time by rummaging through a pile of papers he extracts from his briefcase. My mind empty as I fill my stomach, I look at him from the corner of my eye. Shigeru looks up from his papers, giving me a brief glance-over, and for some reason my stomach gives a nervous turn. Ten years ago and I would have said this situation was impossible. Now, well… I think of the dream. _Now, it's all confused_.

"So…how was court?" I ask slowly, raising my gaze from the food back to him.

Shigeru shrugs one shoulder and leans forward, his face dipping into shadows as he focuses more intently at the papers. I don't think he can read anything with the lights turned off. "Fine," he says eventually.

One-word answer. I bite my lip, wondering at his tone. Should I press further…? No, better not. Instead, I ask, "Does your wife work at the same lab?"

"No," he replies. "Julia works with prehistoric monster recovery, trying to locate viable fossils and bring them back to life. It was my second researching preference."

"Oh." Silence again. I struggle with what to say next.

He's been gone so frequently that it's weird talking to him again. My mind wanders as I wrack my brain for more to say, just something interesting about my day. I feel the faint tingle of a non-existent breeze across my skin. A shiver travels up my spine.

"Um," I begin slowly, mostly since I know it's late in the conversation to be asking it, "So how was Lan?"

Shigeru's hands pause in their paper shuffling, and he bobs his head rhythmically as he finishes his thoughts. "She's doing well. She's…been coming to the lab a lot." He laughs, and the noise sounds foreign in the darkened room. "It's actually because of her we've been working so late." He resumes sorting his papers as he says, "Fu and Lan had a challenger about a week and a half back, one that used the Dark-monster Nyuura. At some point during the battle, the Nyuura… evolved."

"Really?" I hadn't heard of Nyuura having an evolution.

Shigeru nods and pulls a single page out of his stack, bringing it to my attention. From the window's like, I can make out a picture of a feline creature, dark grey and red, staring menacingly off-camera. "Lan brought the monster to our attention. We've been keeping the evolution hush-hush since we're still investigating the cause," he explains. "She gave video tapes from the gym for us to review, plus her own insight into what happened during the battle."

"So…why the late nights then, if the evolution was filmed?"

"Well, the challenger has given us permission to study her Pokémon directly, which is rare. She's off training in the local islands, so the permission lasts only until she comes back." Shigeru glances over at me, setting his papers on the table, "Maybe you'd like to come see it?"

"At the lab?" I ask, although my tone is less than inquisitive.

Shigeru shrugs again, uncertain. "If you wanted to come. Thought it might be nice to get out of the house, see this rare monster."

Again with him wanting me to leave home.

"Maybe," I say quietly. "I'll see it, I guess."

"Good." Shigeru pulls a piece of paper from his shirt pocket and, scrounging a pen from the briefcase, writes something down. "This is the address and number I'm reachable at for work."

"Why…" I begin to ask, but stop once he hands me the paper.

"Just…if you wanted to stop by, if you were bored or something. Wouldn't mind it if you did – it gets pretty tiresome staying there at night, especially when half the other guys head out early." He sounds almost shy. "You could come anytime, really."

I stare at the paper, slowly absorbing the scrawled address. Slipping it into my pocket, I draw my knees up onto the cushion and let my blanket fall to the floor.

He sighs, looking at me finally. "The weekend will be a nice break from all this stress." I look at him, puzzled, so he continues, "I mentioned it earlier, didn't I?" A true smile creeps to his mouth and I give him a half-hearted scowl for keeping his plans hidden. "Fine, I didn't," he concedes, "but it's confirmed now: Kiko's rearranged her flight and she'll be in town by the end of the week. Gonna be here for _three _days."

"Three days?" I ask, incredulous.

"Mhmm." The grin on Shigeru's face is wide and sincere, and I can't help but smile in response. "Three days she'll be tearing this town apart."

Three days he will be gone with her. More nights home alone.

"Where's she staying?" I ask, my smile faltering.

"Probably at a hotel or the Pokémon Centre, maybe with other friends. I thought about her staying _here_ until her flight out but," Shigeru shrugs. "Isn't my place to offer."

I nod, uncertain what to say. He looks in one of my half-empty cartons, pops a leftover vegetable into his mouth and continues casually, "So Sato, since you didn't want to come today, you've already promised to suffer Yukiko's presence with me."

"When did I – oh. Damn, Shigeru–" I begin, but stop almost immediately. The window silhouettes his outline, and the look on his face is too pleasing; I don't want to crush it. Warily I ask, "Is that the only thing you've got planned?"

He bobs his head indecisively. "There might be some other stuff that comes up. It's not settled, though, so I'll let you know as I figure it out."

"Like what?"

"That researcher's conference is coming up and I might be giving a presentation." He turns to the side, bringing a knee onto the couch. "Might be boring, so I'm not sure if I'll invite you or not."

"Ha-ha, funny. And what about with Yukiko?" I ask, leaning one arm against the back of the sofa. "What're we doing with her?"

"Dinner and a movie, something like that."

"...Fine."

"Good."

Having finished with his briefcase , Shigeru reclines and swivels around in his seat, looking out the window behind him. He seems solemn, pensive, as his legs curl to the side on the cushion. He reminds me of when we were young, when he would disappear into his thoughts and I'd be left waiting until he was ready to speak again. I silently follow suit, crossing my legs and looking out the window at the world beyond.

"Is car-watching really that fun?" he mumbles after a few minutes of passing traffic. His head remains propped on the sofa's backing, his arm pressed against his chin and muddying his words.

I recline my back against the sofa's arm, looking down at my hands. Fidgeting, I say, "Depends on what you're watching for."

I summon enough courage to look at him, to see how the light catches in his auburn hair. His head resting limply on the back cushion, his legs curled haphazardly to the side, Shigeru looks exhausted. Impulsively, I brush the bangs from his eyes, smoothing his ruffled hair. His eyes flicker open and I falter, completing the gesture more roughly than intended.

"Y'know, you don't have to wait up for me to come home." Shigeru faces me forthright. "You made me a key, after all."

"I know, just…" I say softly, looking down at my hands to avoid the intensity of his gaze. Now it's my turn to be annoyingly vague. "I like when you're home. Feels like I barely get to see you."

"The lab's pretty casual about visitors. Come see me at work." He watches me over his crossed arms, studying me. I shrug one shoulder, my only response, and Shigeru sighs, dropping his arms to the side as he looks down at the cushion between us. "I'll see if I can get my hours cut back, lose a couple of these cases."

"N-no, that's not what I meant-" I blurt, but he waves off my protests. His hand comes to rest on my crooked leg, giving it a light squeeze too intent to be casual.

"It's fine, I just...need the time off too." He looks away, his hand slipping away.

We're silent for a couple dozen heartbeats, a strange mood brewing in the room. My leg thrums at the remnant heat from his hand.

A weighted pause, then: "Have you been sleeping well? You seem tired."

I shrug again, less than willing to answer. "I sleep, but not well."

"Insomnia again?"

"No, no," I reply quickly, my cheeks flushing. "Sleeping alright, just at the wrong hours."

He nods to himself, looking down again. His free hand returns to my knee, drawn there by unknown forces. "I worry about you." His voice is barely a murmur, his fingers scratching my jeans ever-so-slightly. An electric pulse travels up my leg, striking my abdomen. Thank god it's dark; he can't see my reddened face. Shigeru looks up from the vanished space between us, the dispassion in his eyes suddenly lost. Leaning closer, he says, "Wish I could help."

All the muscles in my leg tighten, and I've no idea what to say or do. I just feel his hand, hot and comforting on my leg, and fleetingly wonder if I should grab it or… I don't know, reciprocate? Instigate? Was that what I wanted to do, or even what he meant for me to do?

His hand rests there for an inestimable moment, and I feel like he's trying to decide as well, to retreat or to press onwards. I take a calming breath and, rushing and hopelessly graceless, I make up my mind. My breath catches in my throat as I dart forward, closing my eyes in silent prayer that I'd do this right. Let this be what I wanted. Nervously, excitedly, I kiss Shigeru, giving him an unsexy cuff on the mouth as I overestimate the distance, the pressure enough that I can feel my teeth gnash against the inside of my mouth. Damnit. I quickly pull away, escaping before I could over-think the gesture.

_There_, I tell myself, shutting my eyes with half-dreaded anticipation. Whatever it meant, it was done.

Heartbeats pass, I don't know how many. We're both stone-still; embarrassed, I wait for his reaction, avoiding his gaze as I look down, down at my shaking hands atop my thighs. I feel his weight shift, his leg bumping mine as he angles forward. My arms are drawn stiffly to my body; my palms curl nervously in my lap. His hand brushes my cheek and I swallow deeply, centring my attention on the warmth of his hand.

Shigeru's breath ghosts my lips as he brings our mouths into contact. A slow press, his technique is cautious, mindful, and I hold my breath to quell my nervous breathing. He relaxes a fraction of self-control, his kiss becoming more fluid as I slowly reciprocate his motions.

His fingers sweep behind my ear, pushing into my hair in a way I'd somehow felt before. His mouth is warm and full and Shigeru leans in, kissing deeper and urging me closer as I try, try _try_ to relax into his hold. I start moving my lips, but he's in the midst of pulling back before pressing in again. He dips forward and, without thinking, I reflexively turn my head to the side. My cheeks are fire-red as his aim misses, his mouth brushing my temple. Our chaotic rhythm falters; Shigeru's intentions slam to a halt.

My heartbeat pounding in my ears, my arms still stiffly held against my body, I feel Shigeru rest his cheek against mine for the briefest moment. But his weight is gone as he rocks backwards and returns to his end of the sofa, his chin pressing down and his face disappearing back into the shadows. The air around me is suddenly cold. Shigeru's hands fold upon themselves.

"Sorry," he mumbles as he stands, gathering up the empty paper bag and cartons. He puts his back to me. "Wasn't thinking, sorry."

"Shigeru," I begin. A twinge of panic laces my voice.

"Don't," he cuts in, facing me for a brief moment. He turns on the kitchen light and the sudden brightness is hard, unflinching. I can finally see his expression, caught somewhere between disappointment and embarrassment. He takes a subtle, calming breath before continuing, "I lost my head. Let's just forget it." He stuffs the garbage into the bin and, without turning back, hurries out of the kitchen.

"No, Shigeru," I begin, but I have no idea what else I could say. No explanation I could offer for my actions. What the hell was I doing? I open my mouth again to reply (in protest?) but no sound comes out. He mumbles something about work he has to finish and disappears upstairs. His briefcase remains on the couch, the papers scattered in his haste to move, and I'm left in the still-dark living room, feeling very much like something has just been lost.

-0-0-0-0-

I want to update the next chapter ASAP, so forgive me if it doesn't happen. I really do try! Life and I are even back on speaking terms, which is great considering our longstanding relationship of dislike.

Thanks for putting up with my delayed bullshit. Hope everyone had a good Binary Day today! (Fun fact: 101010 in binary is the number 42, much to the enjoyment of HHGG fans)

XOXO Leika


	12. Chapter Twelve

Author's Note: Short list of names today. Kissaki is Snowpoint City in Sinnoh (Shinnou); Koratta is Rattata, and Nidoran is Nidoran (male, although it's not specified); again, Iibui is Eevee.

Not kidding, chapter twelve has undergone over two dozen major versions and a collective word count entering six-digit territory to get to the point of posting. So many of my darlings were murdered in the making of this chapter. Many more should have followed, but the effort involved surpasses that necessary for what I consider a 'fun' piece to write. Still, posting at least bi-annually is worth more than delaying this chapter's completion interminably. I hope. Be gentle.

Disclaimer: I do not own Pokémon or its characters. The story is a work of fiction and in no way shall money be made from this endeavour. Unauthorized reproduction or copying of this fiction is not allowed (aka do not copy/post/save to your hard drive or elsewhere).

Melody of a Memory  
By Leika Lai

Chapter Twelve

Typically Shigeru heads to work at some ungodly hour each day, so next morning I set my alarm to 'early'. Despite this effort, I barely stagger out of bed in time to watch him leave his room. He looks up at the sound of my door, catches my eye, and his body language grows rigid. His hand floats in the air before him, caught midway on its path from the doorknob towards straightening his tie. It all adds up to the distinct impression that he doesn't want to see me. That or he doesn't want me to see _him_.

"Morning," he says, mumbling as he looks away. He grabs his briefcase and shuffles down the hall.

"Morning," I reply, following him down the stairs to the front door. I note the stiffness of his back, the set of his shoulders and the slouch of his arms all screaming with a sudden burst of tension. It's difficult to ignore but I manage to feign normalcy. "D'you want to eat breakfast? Before you go?"

He shakes his head and, pressing his back against the wall, leans down and grips a shoe in hand.

Is he avoiding me? I'm sure he's avoiding me.

"Are you mad?"

He slides on his second shoe. Turning slightly, he says in a gritty voice, "Didn't sleep well. Plus today's not gonna be the best day."

I nod to myself; I felt I could relate. I just want to do something, say something that'll allow us to forget about last night. But instead of blurting a hasty apology and making things (hopefully) better, I retreat a couple steps, intent on moving anywhere but where I am now.

Shigeru's hand motions in my direction, halting me momentarily. He catches his bottom lip between his teeth before giving me a guarded reply. "Sato, don't... Please, don't take this personally, just..." He sighs. "Between Jules and work, there's enough on my plate today."

Does that make me another burden? I open my mouth and, briefly hesitating, say nothing. Just nod. He stands upright again, fishing in his coat pocket for his phone. Having wrested it out, he half-glances at me and gives me a serious once-over. "You okay?"

How could I answer that honestly? "Yeah," I say, grinning ruefully. "I'm fine. Boring day ahead, but..." Shrugging, I add, "Boring's what I do best."

"Wish I could say the same," he says. A sombre half-smile appears on his face. We lock gazes and Shigeru turns away, distracting himself with his phone. "Better hurry. Miles to go before I sleep."

"Yeah." I nod. He excuses himself and I pathetically watch as he exits the front door. Shigeru disappears into the world and I am left waiting, again.

* * *

I wanted to do something meaningful with the day, but the goal I set walked out the door so I made some new ones. Shigeru was always muttering that I should learn to cook for myself, so I waste the morning at a cooking store finding recipes and the afternoon gathering random ingredients from the local market. It wasn't terribly interesting, but it ate up the empty hours of the day.

When it's almost six and Shigeru still isn't home, I don't know what to think. On one hand, he was working late nearly every night. Still, he did have a pretty convincing excuse to avoid seeing me... I think of this morning, how his hair hung in his eyes as he kept his gaze, his mind, his attention, distant – his thoughts were anywhere I wasn't.

A raw heat shoots through my abdomen and I give a low groan of self-pity. What was this? Why did we have to get complicated? We were just starting to be friends again, somehow recouping from over a dozen years of hatred and indifference, and this was new. Too new. A dangerous step away from a developing friendship.

Damn if I ever screwed up. I had felt... _something_ from him then, on the couch last night, but, in typical fashion, I never thought it through. I should have figured what would happen afterwards, or what my reaction should be. And now it seems that Shigeru was even more upset about it than I was; maybe he was worried I was making fun of him, or... I don't know. Considering how long he's been at my house, I don't know him as well as I should. He has kept his distance, yet he was becoming an increasingly important part of my life. I'm scared of messing that up.

Half past seven, I pull myself out of this dark spiral of thoughts and attempt solo dinner preparations. Pulling out one of the 'easier' cooking books I bought (Five Ingredients or Fewer, it promised), I pilfer through the grocery bags for ideas. An hour of preparation and cooking provides me with a decent chicken-and-pasta meal. Even my mother would be pleased. Well, by the effort if not with the results...

By ten, the dishes are done and I am back in bed, my mind force-emptied; I just want to avoid thinking and go straight to sleep, but last night's disaster was trapped in my head, warping my thoughts. What starts as a simple play-by-play transforms into countless scenarios where it goes differently, where I hadn't kissed him and where he hadn't kissed me back. Or where we did it properly. My mind is drawn back to the only relationship reference I know, the one I learned from the first serious attempt I made at dating. Her old scripts begin, passing unwelcome through my mind.

She was nice enough, I suppose. A fellow trainer I'd met shortly after becoming Master. Casual conversations turned into dinner invitations turned into something more. I try now to remember her name but it doesn't come to mind. Even her face is the blur of a memory. Brown hair, maybe. Dark eyes. Pouty lips.

That particular evening, she waits on tenterhooks for the kiss, for what she considers the 'official' start to the night, but all I feel is dull and nervous. I'm not sure how I'm supposed to set the mood but I manage to lean in with a boyish grin, the first forced smile I'd given her. Idle conversation passes, something to distract me from the next step. Inevitably I freeze up, unable to follow through. It wasn't what I wanted, really. The company was nice enough.

She doesn't mind, though; she takes the meagre scraps I've given and takes the subtle step outside the 'friend zone'. She kisses me, slowly, and presses on for more. I'm not sure what to do but she's more than willing to tell me. She nudges my hands to where she wants them to be, showing me what I'm doing wrong without saying a word. And thus, I move from active participant to a merely necessary one. Let the dull routine begin.

We called it off a few weeks later; she said I was cold and distant, that I was nothing like my trainer profile described. Our relationship took place early in my title and so the Elite Four waited with bated breath for her to vent our secrets to the tabloids, for some sort of rumour storm to blow over about me and the whole organization. But she didn't. She kept her opinions to herself for once.

I tried dating again a few years later. Different girl, same problem. In the end, they all wanted the Master trainer and who they thought he would be, instead of me. I just wanted companionship. Still, I felt like I somehow led them on, that my expectations were off and it was my fault that I they didn't want to stay. The girls are gone but the guilt remains, as fresh as it was years ago.

Back in bed, I close my eyes and stop this self-bruising train of thought. I don't want that again. I don't want to let people down. Let Shigeru down. No. The best scenarios I could conjure were nowhere near good enough. Not for him. I just want to be happy. For him to be happy too.

I turn onto my side, hiding my face in the pillow as I think about all that I could have done to fix last night. What I could do to make it better.

It just wasn't enough.

* * *

Terrible thoughts, terrible dreams. When I awake, I don't immediately remember my troubles. I wander down the hall in my pyjamas, rubbing at the grit in my eyes as I stop in front of Shigeru's bedroom and peer inside, noting the folded sheets of his bed. He always tidies his room in the morning and there's no way to tell for certain, but I know. Shigeru didn't sleep here. He didn't come home last night.

So I return to my room and nap until mid-afternoon. There was nothing to do, but by two o'clock I drag myself out of the house for some fresh air. Go to the park. Enjoy some of the calm weather we'd been having of late; the rainy season was mostly over now, leaving the citizens of Tokusane with an all-too-brief window of sunshine.

I'm not the only person with this idea, it seems. People litter the park's lawn: couples chat on the grass, young children run around with their monsters, and parents or sitters wait nearby and wistfully watch their child's endless energy. I stick to the cobblestone walkways and avoid crowds as best I can; the last thing I need today is to be spotted by a fan. My hands slung heavy in my coat pockets, I must look as melancholy as I feel.

A half-dozen teens stand in a circle to one side of the walkway, laughing and talking excitedly to each other. They surround two Pokémon battling between them, a Koratta and Nidoran fighting without much skill. I stop a good distance away and look over the crowd, deciding on a brown-haired girl and a mousy boy that must be the competing trainers. The boy cheers on even as the Koratta's misguided Quick Attack misses its target completely. As I watch, my throat feels tight, my palms sweaty. I hurriedly head back home.

I don't bother waiting for Shigeru, so I eat supper early tonight. The pasta wasn't much better as leftovers, but I finish it anyways and return to couch for my car-watching ways. Sun sets and the streetlamps take over illuminating my house, casting patches of light through the windows. I sit in the dark for perhaps an hour before resigning myself to the truth and reluctantly heading upstairs. I'll shower and go to bed early, sleep permitting. Sounds like a plan.

Taking a towel from the hallway's linen closet, I shut the closet door and pause. The hairs on the back of my neck seem to prickle. Like a presence, I feel rather than see Shigeru's room behind me. It is empty, that hasn't changed, but that's why it's bothering me.

The door is ajar; I drag my eyes along the floor and, without intending to, push the door open and step tentatively inside. I take a deeper look than this morning, letting my gaze wander over the tops of his furniture. The nightstand holds a minor collection of paperback books and some sort of matte-covered magazines; on the dresser are a half-dozen jars and bottles beside a small stand-up mirror that he must have brought from home. I meander to the bottles and pick up one I recognize.

Shigeru's aftershave. Sitting on his neatly-folded bed, I stare at the bottle in my hands, tracing my fingers over the smooth glass. I lightly shake it and its amber contents splash within. It looks expensive, but that's not why I like it. I set it on the nightstand and slowly, without much purpose, lie down on the bed.

He better not be mad at me. He'd say if he was, right?

Gripping his sheets, I wish he was here. That someone was here. That there was something to do. Inhaling deeply, I note the trace of aftershave on his pillow and the more evasive scent it hides, one that was deeper and ever better. Curling my legs onto the covers, I close my eyes and wish for the night to go away.

* * *

But the front door closes with a weary sigh and he's home before I know it. I stir in my sleep, rolling to my side and curling my arms to my chest. While I dream of Masara, Shigeru kicks off his shoes and drags his briefcase upstairs. The light in his room flashes on and I flinch, frowning as I bury my face down and away from the brightness. He fumbles but he immediately turns off the light, standing stuck at the threshold of the room while he processes the sight before him.

He manages a recovery, though, and silently approaches my side of the bed. He sets the case down on the foot of the bed and, a small click later, the bedside lamp fills the room with creamy mellow light that strikes me full on the face. "Sorry," he says quietly. His hand rests briefly on my shoulder, his touch dragging as he pulls away. I frown again but not as vehemently; I'm still mostly asleep.

Retreating to the opposite end of the room, he goes about his nightly routine – I hear the closet door whisper open and a hanger gently rattle against metal. Blinking, I clear my eyes as I struggle to awaken. Shigeru slides his dark suit jacket off, catching it in the crook of his elbow while he guides the hanger into its sleeves. He even has a tie on.

"Court?" I blurt, my voice roughened by sleep. Shigeru looks up, breaking whatever thoughts he'd been chasing in the moment. An idle fantasy involving the bed that he hastily dismisses, that he tries to replace with anger or annoyance but fails.

He sighs and nods his head in response. "Mediation was this afternoon." He tugs his tie off, draping it onto the same hanger as the jacket.

"Mhm." I close my eyes, nuzzling my head into the pillow.

He crosses the room and scrapes open the window; my arms prickle as the cool night's breeze ebbs in. While Shigeru opens his dresser and pulls out a fresh pair of pyjamas, I sit up, prepared to leave, but without a word he exits to the bathroom. I close my eyes, missing the curious glance he casts me on his way.

The city din flows in through the window, blending with the blind's soft metallic clang. I hear the faucet in the bathroom turn on and water lowly splashing in the sink. I imagine Shigeru brushing his teeth and straightening his hair in the mirror, conjuring to mind the dark circles beneath his eyes and the shadow of stubble along his jaw. The way he braces himself along the counter, arms wide and head down, before mustering the courage to return to his room.

Dozens of heartbeats pass before he finally reappears, the hallway flooding with the bathroom's light before it drops back into darkness. He crosses the bedroom and, without slowing, bucks his knees against the bed and falls onto the empty sheets. Facedown, arms still at his sides, Shigeru is motionless beside me.

I can't help but laugh. "That good of a day?"

His reply is blurred by the sheets, but I think he says, "Precisely."

"What's up?"

Shigeru shrugs, a motion that seems silly in his current position. He lifts his head and, crossing his arms beneath it, gives me a dull look. I raise my eyebrows and he replies, "Forty-eight hours is a long time to be at work. Plus court was today again. So..." He sighs. "I'm not liking my job today. Not liking Jules, not liking the legal system..."

Again, I look at him expectantly.

He shrugs one shoulder and leans forward, his face masked by the ridge of muscle in his forearm. "Nothing spectacular happened," he says eventually.

Ugh, he can be vague sometimes. "What does that mean?"

Shigeru's mouth puckers and I frown, waiting for him to continue. Lying on his stomach, arms crossed, he seems more interested in the lint on the covers than in our conversation. His attention evades me once again.

Impatience gets the better of me. "Is that all?"

Shigeru glowers. "I don't want to talk about it."

"C'mon, Geru. Humour me."

"There's nothing to say. It's a divorce." Shigeru rolls onto his side, propping his head up with one arm while gesturing with the other. "We're at court splitting up stupid shit so we can never see each other again. How much more should I tell you? Who gets the china set, the kitchen sink?"

"I didn't think you needed court to divide property, just a couple of lawyers..." I dance around the subject, trying to get him to bring it up instead of me. Shigeru knows I'm doing this too, I can tell by his darkening expression.

He rakes his hand through his hair, pushing his bangs over his face. Finally he concedes. Looking down at his hands, his head dropping to the covers, he sighs and says, "She's going to get Midori and Mahoka."

"What?"

Shigeru waves a hand. "Not officially, yet, but it's going to happen. Jules'll get full custody, move away, and I'll see the girls twice a year if I'm lucky."

"You don't know tha–"

"She barely lets me see them as it is. Imagine how bad it'll..." He gives a sad smile and rolls onto his back, folding his hands over his stomach. "I feel it, Sato. The longer mediation goes on, the more certain I become." Staring at the ceiling, he says to himself, "In my gut, I know."

Damn. I reach out to grasp his arm but Shigeru abruptly wrenches away, folding both arms behind his head and settling in as if nothing happened.

"Shigeru–" I begin, hurt by his gesture.

"No, seriously. I don't need your charity," Shigeru says, shooting me a dark look before resuming his cold stare-down with the ceiling.

How could this be the same guy who kept me company at the hospital, who brought me home take-out at midnight, just because? He's acting like... Like the insufferable teenage Shigeru. Like my rival. My stomach drops at the thought, a low anger rising in its place.

"Screw that," I reply. "If you didn't want my help then you wouldn't be here." Shigeru doesn't respond so I grab his arm and pull it out of view, earning a wicked look from him in return. "Thought you weren't mad at me," I say, angrier than I intended to be.

"After the other night? I'm just waiting for you to freak out, Sato," he retorts. "C'mon. Kick me out again."

"What? No– I never kicked you out." I rise, sitting cross-legged beside him.

"You've threatened before, made it clear plenty of times that you can't wait for me to leave."

My cheeks redden, a mix of anger and embarrassment. "That's not the same."

"Close enough."

I take a few steadying breaths. I don't want to think about the last time he left, how bad it got. "Shigeru, I'm sorry about that. I really am. I didn't want you to go but I screwed up, like usual." My hands bunch atop his bed, mindlessly grabbing fistfuls of covers. "And...I made a mistake the other night too. I...I lead you on. I'm sorry."

Shigeru doesn't move, not initially. He quietly processes the change in my tone. "But I misread you," he says. Deadpan, not accusatory. Small bonus, I guess.

"No, you didn't," I manage to reply, wishing I could tell him more. How I wanted something, some spark, to happen between us. And then I didn't want it after all. _But I want it again, and I don't, but I do and it's all_...

"So..." he mumbles, giving me a peculiar look. I catch his eye and he drops his gaze, returning his pensive stare to the bed. "Are you...curious, or..."

I blush and say, "I...I don't know." I shake my head, although I'm not sure what I'm disagreeing with. "I just wanted to. Just kiss. I don't know why."

"Oh," he says dully.

"Have you, Shigeru? Kissed many guys, that is..."

Shigeru tenses; if it wasn't so beneath him, I'd think he's self-conscious. "You _are_ curious."

"I'm not saying–" I backtrack, waving my hands erratically.

"No, no worries, Sato." He sits upright and lowers his tone as he replies, "Yeah, I've been with guys before."

"When?" He started dating Julia in college, so it'd have to be–

"A while ago." Shigeru looks evasively away. "Doesn't matter."

"Any...boyfriends?" I ask, gesturing stiffly in front of me. I'm uncomfortable just asking, but I'm nosy as hell...

"No. You?"

I laugh, a staccato sound that hollowly echoes in the room. "N-no. Barely had girlfriends, let alone anything else."

"So...you're not interested in...?"

I glance up from the blanket. His hands are folded stiff before him, revealing more than the cool expression on his face ever could. Heat flushes through me and I have to look away. Just leave that spark where it is, where it always has been. Unspoken.

"Not necessarily, but..." I say quietly, mumbling. I flatten my bangs over my forehead, trying to buy some time to think. No good. "Yeah, I don't know..."

An infinite pause erupts, the two of us at a standstill while we soak in the conversation. "Sato?"

I force myself to look at him, at the sincerity on his face. He's hesitant; a strange sight – normally he's good at hiding his thoughts. He chews his lower lip, thoughts mulling, and says, "When I was first coming to terms with myself, I..." He opens his mouth, tries to continue but fails. His hands release their rigid hold on each other and he tries to gesture fluidly, starting again. "I didn't want it to be true, and I lashed out at people because of it."

I nod; like I could forget the vicious years of our adolescence...

Shigeru's expression tightens, closes off at the memory of his actions. "I figured I had nowhere to go, nobody to turn to. That my grandfather, if he found out..." Shigeru shakes his head, avoiding the thought. "I was confused... angry... I thought it'd be better to keep my friends and family away from the terrible person I was, so..."

He sighs heavily, rasping a hand over his temple as he forces his way through his words. "I pushed away the people that mattered the most," he says finally, giving me a pointed look, "the people that could've helped me get through what I was feeling."

"I'm sorry–" I begin, but Shigeru interrupts with a curt gesture. He's not finished yet.

"I'm not saying you're in the same situation as I was, or that you're keeping yourself alone for the same reasons but... Satoshi, if you need somebody to talk to about _whatever_, trust me. Even if you don't believe it, you can trust me. Don't shut me out."

My ears seem to ring with building pressure; the sounds of the room are mute and distant. I don't need a mirror to know my cheeks are red with embarrassment – his words were personal, private, and I can feel the heat emanating from my face.

What did he think was wrong with me? I already told him everything in my life worth mentioning. I was having some trouble dealing with my title, sure, but it couldn't be as bad as Shigeru thought, right? He was the one with issues, not me. He was the one juggling a divorce, demanding work schedule, and more stress than I could handle – I was just bored. Not worth the effort he was showing.

"You've been the one keeping to yourself," I blurt, avoiding the subject. "I haven't been–"

"–Oh please," he interrupts, force of habit. "It's obvious you aren't doing well as Master, probably haven't been doing well for years. You used to be lively and active, surrounded by friends and constantly moving. Now? Just think about it, Satoshi. How long did it take for you to tell me about your title troubles? How about Pikachuu, which you still haven't–"

"Why do I have to do all the explaining, huh? What about you? You've changed too, and it's not like you're Mister Talkative with your prob–"

"Satoshi," he says, sternly cutting me short. Something in his tone stops me and I clamp my jaw shut. A calming breath as the two of us retract our claws. His voice is level and composed as he begins again, "This shouldn't be a fight."

We've spent so many years as scornful rivals that it comes to us as second nature. I have to cool my impulses, to remember how much has changed since then. Or, perhaps, how little.

He speaks in a brittle monotone, his emotionless mask sliding into place once again. "I just don't want you to make the same mistakes I made. I avoided help for a long time. It's been years and I'm still suffering with the consequences."

We remain uneasily next to one another on the bed, fidgeting our hands. I stare at the bedspread long enough to give an accurate thread count. There is more he wants to say, that I should say in response, but we don't. We can't; the past is heavy and it smothers.

"Thank you," I mumble. It's all I can manage without sounding fake.

Shigeru only nods as he watches me, his dark eyes focused and alert. I feel sick, like I'm not sitting correctly in my own body. The conversation fees like a blur and I'm left with a hangover sensation that things have changed between us in a way that I don't understand.

If we had the type of relationship that allowed for it, this would be the point where I'd hug him. I'd want to, to bury the hatchet in a quick and easy way. But things aren't that simple for us. I cast my gaze around the room, trying to find a distraction from Shigeru and the temptations he brings about.

His briefcase, still set on the bed's end, catches my eye. He looks to it as well. "So...you have work to finish tonight?"

"Don't remind me." He sighs as he rises from the bed to fetch it. The clasps unhinge and he leans over the case, shuffling through its contents. He mutters loud enough for me to hear, "As much fun as our conversation's been, this awaits." Shigeru's tone is too-casual, contrived instead of reassuring, but I can appreciate the effort.

I nod absentmindedly, not really noting what he's saying. "D'you want privacy?" I struggle to my knees in preparation for an exit.

"No, don't." Shigeru replies, his hand flashing out to stop me. "Stay if you want, doesn't matter," he says, convincingly indifferent, but I can read him well enough to see through it. He sets up on bed with a booklet in hand. "Just switch me spots on the bed, 'kay? I need the light."

Hesitating, I oblige his order and shimmy to the bed side nearest the hall. Shigeru resumes my place, settling in with what looks like another one of those matte-covered magazines. I remain cross-legged, watching him for several minutes. The tension between us hasn't left and the raw, sick feeling in my body is still there; it makes this all unbearable, but it'd be rude for me to just up and go, wouldn't it?

I need some time to think about what he's said. I ask again. "Should I leave?"

"Already said, stay if you like."

Guilt seeps through me. Damnit, I can't go. As much as I want to, I don't want to either.

"So... What're you reading?" I ask, feigning interest as I peer over his shoulder. The air between us seems to crackle.

"Journals, stuff published by people in my field." He swaps through the pages of his booklet, curls it back on itself, and holds it out for me to see.

"_New evolution for Iibui_," I read, puzzled by the article's title. He nods and changes the page to a glossy insert, to a picture of an icy fox-creature.

"The researcher's coming in from Kissaki to share his findings at the conference."

"A friend of yours?"

"Yeah." He settles onto his back, nestling against the headboard and opening the journal in his lap. I lie down on my side, closing my eyes to block out the distractions he provides. My mind repeats Shigeru's words, how he thought of me as lost and needing help.

After several minutes, Shigeru sighs heavily and settles into his pillows. "That interested in your work?" I say quietly, my eyes still closed.

"Hush."

Time passes as he reads. Shigeru brushes his hand across his mouth as he concentrates, and I steal glances at him to watch this behaviour. My gaze wanders down to his other hand, the one holding the journal in place. Temptation gets the better of me and, spotting the band of gold on his finger, I reach out and touch it.

Shigeru's hand pauses on his chin, his attention shifting as I grab his hand and pull it close. The journal falls closed on his stomach. "You still wear it," I muse, rubbing my thumb over his knuckles as I inspect the ring.

"I'm still married," he says quietly.

"I know, I just didn't think you'd still wear the ring, s'all." I sigh and try to return his hand, but he doesn't let it go. He's been waiting for an excuse too. "Does it have an inscription?"

"Mhmm." Shigeru scoffs slightly. "_Forever_."

My big mouth makes me ask. "You're certain she'll get the girls?"

His hand flexes on mine, tightening in a grip that says more than words.

Silence laps in again, drowning potential conversation. I rest my cheek against his shoulder and try reading along with him, but the content is over my head. I should get up, go to bed, but I don't want to. Not anymore. Resting my eyes, I breathe in deep.

Just stop fighting the inevitable, Sato. This isn't a battle you're going to win.

Shigeru even surrenders the pretence of reading, eventually; he hasn't switched pages in ages. Letting the journal fall closed on his lap, he lies there, quietly processing the clutch he has on my hand. He pushes the journal back onto the nightstand and, hesitating, turns off the lamp as well. I barely notice the change in brightness; my mind is elsewhere, lost in my own train of thoughts.

We lay there in sombre silence; the only sounds in the room come from our quiet breathing. Shigeru turns to his side, his face inches from mine. I don't know if he thinks I'm sleeping or not; he must if he's not talking to me. He doesn't move but his grip on my hand tightens and shifts. That tension, that awkwardness, bubbles up inside me.

Eventually I break the silence and say, "Shigeru?"

He looks asleep, but his voice is clear as he replies, "Yeah?"

"From what you said..." It is a few heartbeats before I decide to reply. "You think something's wrong with me?"

He takes my hand and pulls it closer, resting the tense knot of skin and bone against his chest. A soft laugh, a deep breath, then, "No. You're wonderful."

His words are easier to find than during the day. But I still wait an uncomfortable gap of time to reply. I give a simple shrug, resonating along my arm. His fingers tighten; the drowning thump of my heart dominates my head. "Shigeru," I blurt, whispering quickly, "I'm sorry. I'm a pain in the ass and you don't need this burden–"

Shigeru's hand clamps over my mouth, halting the train of excuses. "Don't," he says. He takes back his hand and leans over me, staring me down. "Stop saying you're sorry, Satoshi. You don't have to be."

"I'm not messed up," I mumble, more to reassure myself than to convince him. Shigeru doesn't reply; he doesn't have the heart to tell me what he really thinks. I press my hands to my eyes before I cross my arms over my forehead, hiding from his gaze. "I just don't know what I want anymore. I don't remember who I wanted to be."

"You mean about your title?" Shigeru brushes his hand over my chest, bringing warmth to my body. His fingers touch my collarbone as he says softly, "Or are you talking about this?"

"Hmm?"

His hand slides over my shoulder and up my arm, teasing it away so I have to look at him. He's closer than I thought, resting on his elbow as he drapes across my chest. "I can't help but think I'm making things worse for you," he says, glancing away. In that moment, Shigeru seems lost too. I'm hit with a stab of sympathy and reach out to touch him, to rub my hand across his cheek.

"Satoshi," he says, soft as a sigh. He leans in, his mouth brushing my hair as it presses near my ear. "You confuse the hell out of me."

Anxiety hits me, the struggling flip-flop of emotions increasing, but I can ignore the consequences when he's so close. An involuntary sigh on my end, his words on my skin giving me chills. More to myself than anything, I say, "That makes two of us."

"Are you uncertain because..." When Shigeru talks, his lips trace the words over my cheek. "Is it because I'm a guy?"

"No." My voice is guttural and low, stemming from the base of my throat. I've given an honest answer, surprising us both.

"Then tell me," Shigeru whispers, retreating to glance over me. "Because I can't keep getting my hopes up."

I look up at him, noting the parted lips, the flush on his cheeks. The barely-disguised desire on his face. It hits me then, fully, this truth that I knew but wouldn't admit. The ever-obvious cause of this strange spiral we've been trapped in. _Shigeru wants me_. _He's interested in me_. I touch his cheek again to confirm this is really happening, that he's really this close. _Shigeru, my rival, wants me_.

And what about me? What was he to me?

Shigeru's breath hitches, his hand taking mine and dragging it to the back of his neck. I wrap my fingers through his hair, brushing the short waves at the base of his skull. "If I'm out of line," he says, his voice low, as his lips trace my throat, "tell me to stop."

His mouth dips against my neck, pressing low and slow as he trails over my skin. His hand slides up my arm and encircles my wrist, pressing it to the pillow above my head. I sigh and curl my fingers approvingly, fighting to relax my grip on his hair. He angles above me, pressing his weight upon me as his fingers push heat along my skin, and I feel so...relieved. Like the decision has been made for me.

I urge my hand through his hair, guiding him where I wanted him to be. He readily obliges, nuzzling along my jaw line before kissing me, finally, on the mouth. He's needy, less reserved than the other night because I have permission to push him away, to confirm his suspicions that he's not worth it. I arch my back and grunt, bringing us closer. It's my only response for now.

He leans in, deep and hard, the kiss gaining a powerful edge. My grip tightens, holding him close as he groans against my lips. He presses me into the pillow, his leg swinging over my hip as he fights to be closer yet, to drink in the entirety of this moment. My breath is shallow when I remember to breathe; he can't be close enough.

The pace then drops to low and methodical, his mouth moving slightly each time it compels mine. I mimic the rhythm, matching his time and enthusiasm. He cradles my face in his hands, slowing the urgency of his kisses. I wrap my arms around his ribs and soak in the warmth of his back, the slow flex of muscle beneath my fingers.

My clenched fists bunch his shirt along his back, my arms seizing tight around him. I push my face into the crook of his neck and nuzzle the heated skin I find. Shigeru stops trying to kiss me then, when I've pulled us into this inconvenient hug.

"What's wrong?" he whispers, but I'm already shaking my head. There are no words to explain the strange rush in my body: the nervous wreck I'd been the last two days, the embarrassment and evasion of tonight, the sublime rush I'm feeling now. The anxiety and the stress and the worry and the desire, the _need_, all blending together in a fatal brew.

When I don't respond, Shigeru still holds me. He presses his face into my hair, rocking me gently as he draws soft circles over my shoulder blades. I don't know how long we stayed like this, but I don't relax until he slowly pulls me back with him, laying me down and rolling us to the side. Without asking, he already knows what I need.

0-0-0-0-

Finally. Sorry for the months between updates. I had strong intentions to update in December but Life went Bad and it continues to get Worse. Part of me would like to give an explanation why it's all Pete Tong, but that'd strike me as the sort of pity-baiting thing I'd rather avoid. So instead, I'll say thank you for your continued readership.

I apologise for being a crap updater and I hope you'll forgive me for only updating twice last year. If it's any consolation, the past three chapters have been the hardest for me to write and it should (fingers crossed) get easier from here. Thanks for the continued support. Love you guys.


	13. Chapter Thirteen

Author's Note: As previously stated, Otachi are Sentret and Pichu are Pichu (easy!). Since it's been a while since he's been mentioned, I'll repeat that Kenji is Tracey. Masaki is Bill, the researcher in Kogane/Goldenrod.

Diverging from the anime (maybe?), this world requires all official trainers to have renewable licences in order to catch or own Pokemon, similar to how you get an ID card in the video games. This should hopefully explain one of Yukiko's comments in addition to any ID references made in the future of this 'fic. I've also made cities have curfews for trainers, to keep them from battling within city limits too late at night. Forgive me if this is too AU for you (because I'm not removing it).

Disclaimer: I do not own Pokemon or its characters. The story is a work of fiction and in no way shall money be made from this endeavor. Unauthorized reproduction or copying of this fiction is not allowed (aka do not copy/post/save to your hard drive or elsewhere).

Melody of a Memory  
By Leika Lai

Chapter Thirteen

It's early morning and, lost in the heavy fog of slumber, I can barely hear the faint cry of birds outside the open window. I'm not awake, not yet. I refuse to be.

Eventually, I realize that repeating this phrase won't send me back to sleep. I groan and nestle into the pillow. It's too early in the morning, I know it; I can tell when I wake up before noon and this was one of those days. Reluctantly I stretch beneath my blanket, reaching out my limbs in an effort to regain some energy and desire to start the day. My arm barely makes it a few inches before brushing against something, coming up against an odd lump in the covers.

I blink my eyes to clear them of sleep, and it takes a few moments before my gesture yields success. I find that the lump is, in fact, a mound of covers. The bed to my right is unmade, used by someone other than myself.

I start to notice more subtle differences in the room, too. The light, for one, was coming from a window on the wrong side of the room. The layout of the furniture was...completely off. My heart beats rapidly as confusion sets in. I pull the blanket half over my face, tucking its edge beneath my chin while I try to ignore the oddities of this morning.

Behind me, I hear a door in the hall creak shut, then a closer one open and close. Footsteps resound and Shigeru appears at the foot of the bed. The fabric of his shirt is damp around the collar and a tie hangs limp across his shoulders. His hair is unkempt and dark from the shower he must have recently finished. I slept so deeply, I mustn't have noticed.

He pays me no notice as he goes about his routine, stealthily approaching the dresser and grabbing deodorant from atop it. Quickly, quietly, he sets about buttoning his shirt. I remain still, my eyes partly closed as I feign sleep. He silently twists a cap off of a jar and rushes his hand through its contents. Shigeru leans towards a small mirror on the dresser and starts loosely pushing his hands through his hair.

So that's how he gets it to do that. I absentmindedly brush my hand over my head, feeling how my hair sticks up in all directions. Shigeru must catch my motion in the mirror because he suddenly turns around. His brow furrowed with concentration, he wraps up his routine without the use of the mirror as he watches me instead.

"Morning," he says quietly. Wiping his palms together, he asks, "How'd you sleep?"

"Good," I murmur. I pull up the blanket, feeling suddenly shy in his presence.

Shigeru nods silently, his attention slowly returning to the mirror. He sets to work on his tie and I watch him as he completes this practiced motion, his hands fluidly transforming the strip of fabric into its formal positioning. Over, under – I never understood it.

"So...I accidentally slept over last night, huh?" I keep my voice light and casual, masking my inner anxiety. His hands, I note, slow in their work on his tie.

"Mhm," Shigeru murmurs, his gaze remaining in the mirror.

"Sorry to inconvenience you," I begin, but Shigeru cuts me off with a shake of his head.

"You're not an inconvenience." He pulls a jacket from within the closet and props it over an arm. Shigeru approaches my side of the bed and sits close. I start pulling the covers back over my face, but he takes hold of them before I can finish the motion. I freeze, suddenly feeling like a deer caught in headlights.

Shigeru and I never just _look_ at each other. It never happens without reason, yet now...

"Are you feeling better?" he asks, and I know immediately he doesn't mean sickness-wise.

I bunch the covers in front of me, for something to do. "Yeah, I'm okay."

"D'you want to... talk about it?"

I answer with a frenzied shake of my head. No.

His gaze flickers away, down to the coat roughly folded in his arms. "You're coming to supper tonight, right? You promised, Sato."

"Wha- oh. I guess," I mumble, choosing this moment to bury my face into the pillow once more. Shigeru scoffs and tousles my hair. The motion is pleasant and familiar, like a habit.

"You'll like Kiko, honest," he tells me, standing as he speaks. I sit up, feeling slightly dizzy, and watch as Shigeru pauses at the door before exiting the room. "It'll do you good to get out of the house."

"What're you, my mother?" I huff, slumping back onto the bed.

"I won't be back after meeting with my lawyer today," he tells me. "I'm just going to head right to the restaurant. Try and be there by six, okay? And dress in decent clothes."

I reply with a lazy nod of my head. As Shigeru's hand rests on the doorknob, he waits a heartbeat before nodding in turn and leaving for work. I stare at the space he vacated, wondering at the gnawing feeling in my stomach.

* * *

True to habit, I don't do much with the day besides wait for the evening to arrive. Sleep until the afternoon, a light dosage of car-watching, and as a follow-up I go for another walk around the neighbourhood. By late afternoon I've wrapped up the day with a quick post-walk shower.

Now I stand in front of my opened closet, wondering what the hell to wear.

Shigeru said to dress decently, but I wonder exactly what he meant by it. I don't want to seem too formal for my first meeting with Yukiko; he gave the impression that she was an earthy sort of girl. Still, I hedge my bets and pick a dress shirt and dark pants, and I fight with my hair for half an hour to keep it mostly under controlled. Resigning myself to the best I could do, I begin my trek downtown.

The evening, although it is quickly darkening to dusk, is surprisingly warm and dry. I walk two blocks before finding a taxi and shortly arrive at the restaurant. I smile at the memory of being here with Shigeru. Hard to believe so little time has passed since we were here last. A lot has happened since then.

I had hoped I'd have arrived before Yukiko or Shigeru, but I see Shigeru and a figure resembling his description of the girl standing outside the restaurant, staring at something in the restaurant's window. Giving my hair a final, nervous straightening and checking my breath in my palm, I approach the couple before me.

Her hair was not quite the style I remembered from her Seikei League profile picture. It was the same teal color but now in a wavy, mid-length bob with long, dense bangs brushed across one temple. Unlike the restaurant's formal patrons within, she wears a white denim jacket over a faded shirt, her pale jeans looking worn out by people who owned them long before her. She perches a large pair of brown sunglasses atop her head as she speaks adamantly with Shigeru. They do not turn to face me, even as I approach their side. I start to say 'hello' when I realize they are mid-conversation.

"Damnit, Shigeru," she says, wrinkling her nose as she casts her thumb towards the menu in the window, "I told you to pick someplace cheap. I can't afford anything but the house salad here."

"And I told you I'm picking up your tab."

"Not happening," she stiffly replies. "I've got a better idea."

"Oh?" he asks, and I shuffle in place, wondering if I should inject myself into the conversation.

Yukiko nods emphatically. "You've forgotten. Thursday nights, we belong at a bar a half-dozen blocks–" she gestures to her left "–_that_away."

I glance warily at Shigeru, wondering what was going on. I see slow comprehension dawn on his face. "Thursday nights were–"

"Amateur wrestling nights!" Yukiko beams, barely containing herself. "Just like old times."

Shigeru laughs and shakes his head. That glowing smile of his finally turns back in my direction, and despite my reservations I can't help but grin myself. He nudges my arm as I fall in beside him, a step or two behind Yukiko. "Glad to see you made it. You look good," he adds, smiling aloofly, as he finishes his appraisal of my outfit. I duck my head down embarrassedly, accepting his compliment with a grin on my face.

The three of us start down the street, walking towards something I don't understand.

"Amateur wrestling?" I whisper to him, wondering why they would want to go to such a thing. Shigeru chooses to feign innocence under my suspicious glare, his eyebrows raised and a benign smirk on his face.

"So, this good-looking man here is Satoshi, I presume." Yukiko walks backwards, facing me and holding her hand congenially out. I grip it warmly and give a light pump, providing my introduction. She winks coyly. "I'm Merumi Yukiko. Damn, Shigeru, you didn't tell me he was so suave; I should have dressed purdy too."

"Hush," he replies, smiling wide and shaking his head. I squint in his direction, trying to read him, but Shigeru is as inexplicable as ever.

"Hopefully he's said nothing bad about me." I look to him semi-worriedly.

"That'd be impossible." Yukiko sticks her tongue out between her teeth. "What about me? Has Shigeru told you much?"

I shrug. "Bits and pieces. 'The big details', I suppose."

"Good, we can skip that boring stuff already."

Nice. Already I know I'll like her company.

I listen as she and Shigeru bicker idly before we even reach the pub; Shigeru gives her an exasperated look and she slaps him playfully on the arm, echoing a familiarity I shared with my friends oh so long ago. I smile to myself, enjoying the nostalgia they elicit, the friendliness I knew in better days.

We reach the bar within minutes and pick up tickets at the door; Yukiko directs us through the loosely gathered patrons, waving at the bartender and exchanging brief greetings with him as we move upstairs. We stop at a second storey booth, a curved one near a semi-circled balcony overlooking some sort of temporary ring on the floor below. Shigeru slides into the booth, leaving Yukiko and me to either side of him. The crowd is sparse upstairs.

"So, Yukiko," I ask, "I take it you've been here before?"

She nods vigorously. "It was kind of a tradition we had, watching the old non-pro's every week."

"Yukiko worked at this bar for a stint during university," Shigeru explains. "It's not _real_ wresting, just a show they put on – didn't realize they kept the competition up for so many years, though."

"You two went to school together?" I ask, glancing at her.

Yukiko gestures at a passing server, attempting to flag them down. "Nah, I was in the city temporarily, not taking studies. Too expensive."

"Kiko's ambitions did not extend far beyond traveling and talking incessantly."

"And amateur wrestling," she adds, winking at me. "I dragged them out here more than once or twice."

Shigeru snorts. "Jules hated it, y'know."

"She did not! I asked her and she loved it by the end of second year."

"True, but that was still had two solid years of her hating it with a passion..."

"Jules could have stayed home if she wanted," Yukiko argues, and I am left feeling like the odd person out. I had imagined Shigeru and Yukiko being friends, but not... not Julia too. It was difficult to picture this cheeky girl being friends with Shigeru's dour wife, the three of them going out and having fun together.

"But you've known Shigeru for years and years?" I ask Yukiko, segueing myself back into their conversation. The server has come and gone with our orders, and Shigeru requested a pitcher for our table.

"Mhmm. Like, thirteen or so. Almost as long as you've known him, I suppose."

"Give or take _ten_ years. We were children when we first met." Shigeru scoffs, inciting another playful punch from Yukiko. She rests her crossed arms on the table. Around us, the booths start filling up and the crowd talks louder.

"So then, has Shigeru been up to anything embarrassing in that time?" I grin teasingly at him, "Any terrible secrets I missed out on?"

"If you only knew!" Yukiko laughs and Shigeru rolls his eyes, silently questioning why he is here again. She continues mirthfully, "There's this one time, he and I–"

"Kiko, stuff it."

Winking at me, she says, "We'll swap stories sometime, right, Satoshi?"

"You'll do no such thing," Shigeru replies. "Besides, anything you know is worthless."

"Ouch. We'll see what Satoshi has to say about that."

I smile blandly and look down to the table, deciding it might be worth changing subjects before Shigeru actually got upset. "So what brings you here from Kogane?"

"Oh, work, work, work." Yukiko sighs, lifting her pint to her lips. "The day care had a dozen or so Otachi eggs from the same mother, and almost half of the newborns had unique coloring to them. I'm just here because the babies belong to a research facility in the city."

"Yours?" I ask, nodding towards Shigeru.

He shakes his head. "A different branch. Sounds like they specialize in genetics, maybe color differentiation of monsters."

"So you're a breeder at the day care? Researcher...?" I ask, wondering how exactly Yukiko fit into this scenario.

Yukiko shrugs, an odd smile on her face. "More of a run-around errand girl than a breeder, I suppose," she says, a hint of embarrassment in her voice. "The Otachi are too young for Pokeballs, and the researchers couldn't spare somebody to pick them up. Thus, someone had to deliver them and that someone was me."

"But you were turned away a week ago because some of them were sick, right?" Shigeru asks. "So why'd airport security let you through this time?"

"Well, here's what happened," Yukiko replies, briskly shaking her hands out. With the charisma of a performer, she gives us a mirthful grin. "I get to the airport and the attendant starts complaining that one of the Otachi is snivelling, like with a runny nose. They say I'm a flight risk and kick me out, and won't even reimburse me my ticket! I was so mad, since it's not like I can just buy one of those every day, and my bosses will only splurge for half the cost so I–"

"Sometime today, Kiko," Shigeru mutters over the rim of his pint.

"Shh, Geru, you ruin it! Anyways, so after Kogane's airport kicks me out, I bring the babies back to the Pokemon Centre. Not even the nurses there can figure out what the Otachi was sick with, so I bring him to Researcher Masaki's house nearby before heading back to the day care. He looks over the little guy and guess what?"

I shake my head, not certain what to say.

"Turns out, the Otachi was sick with Pokerus."

"Pokerus?" Shigeru frowns. "But that's incredibly rare and–"

"I know! Which is why, when I told the researchers in Tokusane about it, they called up the airport and screamed at the attendants until they finally booked me onto another flight. At no cost to me!"

"Wow," I mutter.

"I know, right?" Yukiko laughs. "I've gone from _Get away from us, Sick Girl_ to being _Can we bring you another complementary beverage, Madame _in a week. One by one the pups have caught the virus, so now a few labs are fighting for the rights to study the Otachi. Researchers want to interview me, ask me about how they caught the virus, blah blah. That's why I'm in town for the extra days; I have interviews at a couple labs tomorrow morning."

"Nicely done, Kiko," Shigeru smiles.

Yukiko waves her hand dismissively over the table. "But anyways, enough of this. I'm sick of talking about me. Tell me," she turns to Shigeru, lilting her voice pleasingly, "how are the girls?"

"Pretty good."

"They're coping well enough?" – he nods – "Ah, so that's good. Have you met them yet, Satoshi?" Yukiko asks, smiling at me.

"Not in person, no."

"Aw, such a crime!" Yukiko beams in response. "They're monstrously adorable. I get cavities talking to them, they're so sweet." She taps Shigeru in the arm. "So which day are they...?"

"Shut up, Kiko," Shigeru growls through a smile, "it's not official; our lawyers are still in negotiation."

"I don't know what? What're you hiding, Geru?"

Shigeru smiles and shakes his head, refusing to answer forthright. "Just that Jules might be looking for some time apart from the girls."

"And how is she doing?" Yukiko asks, her tone sobering. "Are things getting any better between you two?"

I tense up in my seat, mostly because I know from experience that Shigeru isn't terribly willing to discuss the divorce. With Yukiko, though, he doesn't seem so reluctant.

"We talk mostly through our law firms," Shigeru says, clearing his throat before drinking from his glass. "But I've phoned her and she's called me a couple times. Sometimes we meet in the afternoon for coffee, but that's pretty rare."

"And are things working out?" I ask, tentatively injecting myself into the conversation.

He sighs and sounds agitated as he answers, "I suppose." Shigeru pauses in his response, trying to decide how to continue. He looks to Yukiko. "We still don't know who'll get the house and who gets the girls."

"So that's how you're splitting the two?" she replies, topping up her glass as she does.

"Sounds awful when you put it that way," he replies with a grimace, "picking between a mansion and children."

I feel sorry for Shigeru; Yukiko must sense she's hit a nerve as well, because she says quietly, "Sorry, I wasn't criticizing."

"No, it's okay." He shakes his head. "I know you didn't mean anything by it."

"Do you have a sense of which way custody's leaning yet?" she asks, but Shigeru cuts her off with another head shake. I look down at my hands, and Yukiko begins again, "I wish I'd talked to her lately; she's never home when I call. I just feel so bad for her. I mean, how she found out about the whole thing–"

"What do you mean?" I ask, frowning slightly.

Shigeru and Yukiko share a split-second _look_, and I suddenly know I'm not getting a truthful response. Yukiko gestures her hands tensely in front of her. "The divorce has been really shitty for everyone, a-and…Julia, she's been through a lot because of it."

I look to Shigeru and nudge his arm, hoping he would decipher Yukiko's words. When he avoids my gaze, though, I know this won't happen. Yukiko must have overstepped her bounds and said something she shouldn't have.

"Anyways," she continues smoothly, smirking at Shigeru. "I told you, you never should've married her. _We_ would've made a better fake-couple than you and Jules. At least both of us would've been in on the lie."

"Except we'd only last a week before wanting to kill one another," Shigeru replies blithely. I grab the pitcher from the table's centre and refill my glass, my gaze trained on the two of them like they are an interesting show on TV.

"Think of the chemistry, though," Yukiko insists teasingly. "Your grandpa would've been off your back about marriage if you'd just introduced me to him…."

"Except that Kenji was all over me at that time, and he would've spilled the beans about our sham-coupling if–"

"Wait, what?" I interrupt, nearly dropping my glass. "What're you talking about? And what's this about Kenji? You're both talking over my head."

Shigeru frowns and shakes his head, and Yukiko giggles to herself. He looks embarrassed to even mention it, so she explains, "Back when Shigeru started university I told him, if he wanted me to, I would act like his girlfriend–" She wavers, suddenly second-guessing her words. One slip-up tonight is enough for her.

"C'mon, Kiko – you're really hesitating now?" Shigeru grins at me before taking a swill of his drink, and I instinctively smile back at him. "Sato knows."

Yukiko sighs with relief. "I thought so, but – yeah, anyways…. I offered to help get his grandfather to stop bugging him about not having a girlfriend. But, at the time–"

"–At the time, Kenji was making romantic advances on me." Shigeru continues, gesturing with a pint in hand. "Now, he didn't know much, but he knew that Kiko and I were just friends, so–"

"–So if we tried fooling Ookido-Hakase," she interjects, turning back to me, "I'm pretty sure Kenji would've spilled the truth to the professor, and then Shigeru would've had to explain why he was fake-dating girls…."

I stare at Shigeru, dumbfounded. "Kenji knew too?"

Shigeru grimaces again. "He suspected, but he had no evidence. When I kyboshed his advances, he must've assumed I wasn't interested and stopped paying me attention." He laughs. "He was so embarrassed; I think that's why he left the ranch."

Yukiko snickers. "Kenji was just after you to get to your grandpa."

"Don't, Kiko." Shigeru makes a face similar to one he had while eating tuna casserole.

I tug again on Shigeru's arm, regaining his full attention. "But you said Kenji wasn't–"

"I never said any such thing," Shigeru replies, leaning into my side and giving me a knowing smirk. "You just assumed my response."

I grin and bump my knee into his. "So was Kenji this first-crush you had?"

"Shigeru told you about that?" Yukiko asks me, surprised.

"It definitely wasn't Kenji," Shigeru bluntly replies. He gives me a look like I must be dumb to even suggest it; my cheeks grow red under his gaze until he finally shies his attention back to Yukiko. "Doesn't this qualify as a boring topic, ancient history?"

Yukiko laughs yet again. "It's ancient history only when everybody knows about it. Satoshi doesn't, thus it's a relevant subject."

"Damn." He takes a drink from his water glass. "If that's the guidelines, then… Kiko, are you dating what's-his-face yet?"

"Jason?" Yukiko makes a nasty face. "Ew. Never ever." I look at her imploringly, wishing I understood their short-hand conversations. For my benefit, she elaborates, "Jason is this creep who works part-time at the day care."

"He lusts after Kiko," Shigeru explains, leaning close to her and grinning suggestively at me.

"Ugh, barf my face off – don't put it that way!" She shoves him away.

"Is he a stalker?" I ask her quickly.

Yukiko vehemently nods, her expression blatant with disgust. "The worst. He wormed his way into the day care by bringing his Pokemon all the time. He compliments me for raising 'our' monster so well, saying we'll be great parents when we're 'together'."

Shigeru grimaces sympathetically. "Delusional."

"What about you, Satoshi?" she asks. "Any nightmare girlfriends you want to tell us about?" As she notices the color on my cheeks, Yukiko adds teasingly, "Nightmare boyfriends? C'mon, the dating scene for the Master must be pretty unique. Plenty of juicy stories…."

I hesitate, unsure what to say. "I've had a couple stalkers, like you," I begin nervously, glancing Shigeru's way. "But as for crazy girlfriends–" I shrug "–I've never dated anyone for very long. Two weeks, maybe a month was the longest, I think, and that's barely enough time to figure out which ones are the scary ones."

"No serious girlfriends? What a pity," Yukiko says slowly, giving Shigeru a pointed look. Shigeru glares daggers at her in response.

I'm not sure what else to say; I feel uncomfortable discussing the subject and am unwilling to elaborate. Clearing my throat, I start angling myself out of the booth. "I'm just gonna go to the washroom. I'll be right back." Yukiko directs me where to go, and I excuse myself from the table.

Yukiko casually watches me as I head downstairs, waiting until I am out of earshot before facing Shigeru. She glances at the nearby tables and moves conspiratorially close to Shigeru.

"He's adorable," is all she says, but it is enough to send a chill along Shigeru's spine. She continues, her tone kept low and mirthful, "His arms, in particular, are _delish_."

"Kiko," Shigeru begins warningly, pressing his fingers to his temple.

"No, really," She continues, oblivious. "I thought he'd have a slighter build, like you, but he's just–" she sighs "–_yum_. And his hair's so short compared to his profile pictu–"

"–It is, isn't it?" Shigeru says in spite of himself. "He kept it so scruffy as a teenager."

"Still looks good though," she says thoughtfully. "Good bangs, a nice style. Not too short, really. A nice length for running fingers through..."

Shigeru thinks of last night, his hand in my hair, wisps brushing lightly against his cheek while I tuck my face against his neck and tremble–

"Stop," he sighs, crossing his arms tightly over his chest.

"What? What'm I doing?" she asks.

"You're being obnoxious."

"Well then, bear with me because I'm not finished yet." Despite his annoyance, Shigeru grins; this is the Yukiko he knows so well, and it was wonderful to be receiving her banter in person.

"So he doesn't have a girlfriend?"

"Not at the moment, no." He picks up his pint and holds it in front of his mouth, hiding his expression from her.

Yukiko taps her nose and points at him, a wide smile on her face. "Shigeru–"

"Don't even start," he interrupts. He hasn't mentioned our awkward kiss to her, nor last night's adventure.

Yukiko shrugs. "You never know, he might actually be gay. Or bi, or ace, I don't know."

"Yukiko, please stop." The devious smile on her face gives him no confidence, so he continues, "It's been a struggle just to become _friends_ with him again, let alone anything else."

"And you'd be satisfied with that?"

"I'll take what I can get."

"Ugh, Shigeru!" Yukiko snaps her fingers in front of his face, breaking his pensive lament. "Don't be so dramatic. You're scared he doesn't like you – I don't blame you; it's a huge leap to make. But your problem is that you're so convinced it'll never happen; you always have been." Reclining in the booth, she shrugs idly and continues, "I think he's interested."

"And why do you say–?" Shigeru begins, but he stops as Yukiko responds. She rests both hands pointedly on his, nudging his leg with hers while coyly raising one eyebrow. Shigeru swallows thickly.

"His body language doesn't scream 'let's be _just friends_, Shigeru'. At least, not to me." Leaning confidently back in the booth, she continues, "I'm calling it like I see it, and I already _know _what you're thinking about him." Yukiko picks up her pint and mutters to herself, "You can't tell me fourteen years of lusting after the boy just goes away like it's nothing."

Shigeru's heartbeat sounds clumsy and loud in his ears. He doesn't respond, choosing instead to keep scowling at Yukiko. He doesn't know how to explain how confusing the past couple days have been. Still, he's not the only one reading the signals.

By this time, I am making my way back upstairs. Yukiko catches sight of me closing in; she leans towards Shigeru and gestures for him to be quiet. She does her best to appear neutral as I return to my seat.

"Sorry, the crowd's really filled in downstairs. Hard to walk around," I explain, smiling weakly as I slide into the rounded booth beside Shigeru. He roughly moves to make room for me, and I feel a slight tension between the two of them. Puzzled by Shigeru's awkward manner, I ask, "What'd I miss?"

Shigeru gives Yukiko a sharp look before replying, "Boring stuff. More ancient history."

Yukiko shakes her head but says nothing.

* * *

The wrestling started around seven-thirty and was marked by Yukiko's sudden disappearance from the booth as she moved to the balcony for a better view. While not as enthused as Yukiko, Shigeru and I still edged closer to watch the fights. There were about a dozen competitors tonight, each dressed in elaborate costumes and equipped with varying degrees of skill, but they were all showing the crowd hyper levels of bravado. Yukiko even recognized one competitor from their university years ("_The Mister Mime!_" she squeals, earning Shigeru's quip, _"He shouldn't be an _amateur_ anymore, should he_?") and she vigorously cheered the man on.

The crowd is at least half of the experience, I decide, surveying the faces lit up with delight around me. They are raucous, boisterous, and wholly devoted to this bizarre ritual bordering somewhere between wrestling and theatrical performance. Even the audience pushes against one other as they mimic the actions below; I couldn't help but grin as we watch the circle. My body feels languid and lithe, making me more than willing to shout and jostle along with the rest of the crowd.

"C'mon, toss him out!" Yukiko bellows from Shigeru's opposite side, inching up on her tiptoes and leaning across the balcony's tall railing. She bumps shoulders with a guy on her right, and the two of them boo loudly as a skinny, red-striped man struggles to heft a man dressed as a mime-Pokemon hybrid off the ground.

"What the hell is going on?" I laugh to Shigeru. "How'd you ever get into this, Geru?"

Shigeru grins and shrugs idly. He momentarily reels as a fan bumps into his back. "Yukiko. She loves this stuff, hunts it out in every city she's been to. Follows it religiously."

"_Amateur_ wrestling, though?"

Shigeru laughs and nods his head. "I know, right? This isn't one of the more professional circuits – more like 'amateur' amateur wrestling, but..." he trails off. "Even Julia got in to this, eventually."

"I can't imagine," I chuckle. He imitates my position along the railing, leaning on his crooked elbows and holding the remnants of his pint in hand. He and Yukiko had made impressive use of the cheap alcohol offered tonight; the two of them were collectively out-drinking me three-to-one.

A rough heave from behind pushes me against the guardrail, and Shigeru retaliates by shoving one-handed at the guy, who then responds with a vehement yell of joy as he obliviously continues along his path. I laugh and shake my head as the guy rejoins his drunken friends.

Down below, the monster-mime bounces around earnestly in the ring, his fists dancing back and forth in mock-boxing style. Unperturbed, the red-striped man ducks low and hefts the mime onto his shoulders again, spinning him around before they both fall gracelessly to the floor.

"No!" I hear Yukiko scream somewhere offside. A push from down the line shoves her and another man into Shigeru's side, sending him forcefully in my direction. Having caught onto the crowd's '_spectating is a contact sport too'_ mentality, I drop my right shoulder in anticipation for the upcoming blow.

Despite his intoxication, Shigeru smoothly raises his half-filled glass over my shoulder, spilling not a drop as he stumbles into me; his arm lithely crosses my back, his glass coming to rest – upright, intact – upon my left shoulder. Whatever skill was upon him now vacates, however, and he wavers in place, struggling to remain on his feet.

I laugh and grab the pint out of his hand. "You're drunk. I'm cutting you off."

Shigeru grumbles in response, rubbing his side and leaning his body against me and the rail. His hand slides down my back, coming to rest on my waist. My wicked grin drops as he rests his head on my shoulder. Shigeru's voice is drowned out by the crowd, but I manage to catch his words. "I'm glad you're here tonight. Not Jules."

I nod, not certain what to say. His body is warm, and bubbly pools of heat rise up in my chest. Too-soon he withdraws, and I see his cheeks flush from alcohol. "Julia would sulk at the table back there" – he thumbs idly at the booth Yukiko had picked – "and wouldn't cheer for anyone. Not at first, anyways. So I'm glad you seem to enjoy it better than she did."

"I do," I reply dumbly. All the smooth responses I could have made just fled from my head.

He drags his thumb over the rim of his glass, holding it with both hands as he casts his attention back to the ring. A numb calm seems to come over me then, and even though the crowd remains boisterous and active, I feel like there's a quiet place in the room for just me and him.

But it ends along with the wrestling, shortly after eleven.

Yukiko, staggering slightly, gripes about the eventual winner ("_Damn Mister Mime lost his touch!_" "_Along with your twenty bucks, Kiko._") and we leave the bar amidst the crowd's excited exodus. Shigeru seems more charismatic than usual, leaving me to believe he had, indeed, drank too much, and Yukiko is giggly and energetic yet lacking in refined motor skills. Although I wasn't doing much better myself – my head feels cloudy and mulled – I was still miles ahead of Yukiko.

"Should we call it a night?" Shigeru asks, pulling Yukiko into his side. "It's getting late, and you have interviews tomorrow."

"I know, I know," Yukiko mutters, frowning. "I just don't wanna go yet..."

"Where are you staying?" I ask, looking past Shigeru to the petite girl.

Yukiko gestures a thumb over her shoulder, pointing vaguely towards half of Tokusane. "I'm put up at the Pokemon Centre. The researchers might love to have me in the city, but they weren't footing the bill for a flight _and_ hotel so – pfft! To the cheapest place, I go."

"The Centre let you in?" I ask, frowning. "But hasn't your Trainer ID expired?"

"Yeah," she sighs, a mischievous grin playing on her face, "But through clever placement of my thumb over the expiration date, I was able to confuse the new nurse into letting me stay."

"Tricky wench," Shigeru mutters, eliciting a blearily-thrown punch in response. He stops her first fist easy enough, which earns him a second loose punch to the stomach. He grunts as the weak blow makes contact with his torso.

"You're such a jerk, all the time." Yukiko pouts, crossing behind Shigeru to stand beside me. Threading an arm through mine, she adds, "At least Satoshi is nice to me."

Shigeru's expression tightens as he watches Yukiko lean deeply into my side. I don't know how to react; I stupidly wonder if she is being serious with her sudden advancement, but I soon know she's trying to get a response out of Shigeru. My mind stutters at the thought. Why would he care if she's just holding my arm?

Whatever she was looking for from Shigeru, see seems to get it. She sighs and returns to walking between us, keeping a normal distance away from both of us. "Alright, so the night's over, then," she says forlornly. Yukiko squints one eye and pokes Shigeru in the side. "And don't be so glad to be rid of me."

He rolls his eyes and swats half-heartedly at her. "Hate to break it to you, Kiko, but I doubt Nurse Joi will let you into the Centre tonight."

"Why? What'd I do?" Yukiko sounds so crestfallen that I start laughing for no reason.

Shigeru gives me a knowing smile, "See? Sato knows what I'm saying." He rests his arm over her shoulders, pulling her in tight as he says (in the most serious voice he can manage), "You're drunk, and a poor example to have around impressionable young trainers."

"But I'm tipsy, not drunk. No..." she whines, burying her face into his chest.

"No, really. You'll stagger through the hallway and wake everyone up, and there'll be a spectacle that's fun for everybody except you. So, what I'm saying," he continues, half-talking into the crown of her head, "is you should just catch a cab with us to Sato's."

"Sleepover?" Yukiko says, sounding suddenly hopeful. She removes her face from his chest and beams at me. "Would that be okay?"

"Sure," I nod in agreement. "If there's nothing you need back from the Centre, it should be fine. I have bedding and extra bath stuff, if you need 'em."

"Sleepover!" she repeats, laughing. "I haven't couchsurfed in ages, this'll be great."

Giving me a warm grin, she flashes a graceful arm out onto the street and flags down a passing taxi with surprising ease. Shigeru piles into the cab after her, half-falling as she intentionally messes with his ability to sit. I try and make room in the crowded back seat and Shigeru pulls at my knees, bringing me close as I fasten my belt.

We reach my home shortly. I lead them into the darkened building, gesturing around the first floor and giving Yukiko a brief tour of the rooms. She seems thrilled with my tiny living space, commenting on how cozy the whole house seems. I send Shigeru upstairs (who languidly nods in agreement) to fetch some bedding from the linen closet, and we transform the couch into a makeshift bed.

Pulling the curtains shut across the front window, Yukiko seems satisfied to just recline along the sofa. "I have an old pair of pyjamas, if you'd like," I proffer.

"That'd be _wonderful_," Yukiko replies, her eyes closed and her hands pressed to her forehead. She stretches the latter word out until it fully contains her gratitude.

I grin and head upstairs while Shigeru follows me at a less directed pace; as we reach my room, he leans heavily against the wall, watching as I fish through drawers for a small-sized shirt and pants that I no longer wore. Pyjamas in hand, I turn off the light and brush past Shigeru, placing the clothes on the floor outside the bathroom door. I feel rather than see his approach from behind, his hands gliding over my sides until they rest across my stomach. A chill passes pleasantly through me. He leans into me like he needs me for balance.

"Some night, huh?" I whisper, to which he just nods.

We're just quiet together, soaking in the darkness of the hall, enveloped by the silence left in that talkative girl's absence. I'm not thinking of much, just trying to absorb everything the night had brought with it; it felt distant, surreal, like I had to catch it in order to make it tangible. Behind me, Shigeru nuzzles my hair, tightens his hold on me and kisses the crook of my neck. He then releases me, returning us to being two separate people once more.

"So, what'd you think of Kiko?" he whispers. He slips over to the other side of the hall, resting against his door frame.

"She's...wow." I feel breathless, without words.

"Intense, huh?"

"Like a mini-whirlwind of enthusiasm."

Shigeru laughs, nodding. I slump against the wall beside him. "You were quiet tonight," he says.

I sigh. "It was fun just watching you two talk. Reminded me of... She reminds me a bit of Kasumi, only not so mad."

"You seemed sad though." No judgment in his tone, just observation.

"No, I wasn't. I just..." I sigh again, shaking my head. "I miss my friends."

We lapse into silence for a couple heartbeats. "Kiko adores you, y'know," he murmurs. "Thinks you're the cutest thing since – I dunno, they discovered Pichus. Or something."

I glance away, my cheeks feeling slightly warm. "Don't know why she'd think so. I hardly said more than a couple sentences in a row the whole night. Not enough to form an opinion of me."

"I know, but that doesn't matter." Shigeru shrugs. "She's a good judge of character."

I look over at him, trying to gauge his sincerity. Something is...different about him, I realize. His expression contains something I've never seen, never noticed. He almost seems sad as well; the smooth, calm exterior he always has is still there, but it's distorted, melancholy. I shy away, unable to handle the intensity of his gaze. Shigeru nods and rubs at his side, frowning as he brushes over the bruise he must find, the souvenir the rough crowd gave him.

"Kiko got you good with that elbow, eh?"

"Wouldn't have hurt so much if her bones weren't so sharp." He stretches out his arms and nearly stumbles with the shift in balance it brings. He quickly grips the door frame and looses a low whistle of relief.

"You, sir, are drunk," I laugh.

"Tired and tipsy," he argues, shutting his eyes and cocking a half-grin in my direction.

I guide him into the room, marching him forward until he sits down at the foot of his bed. "Try and explain your hangover to your co-workers tomorrow."

"I'm only there for a half-day, it's not like they're ones to notice," he mumbles, his expression momentarily darkening. He rests his chin in his hands, propping his arms on his thighs as his head hangs heavily down.

I halt in front of him and cross my arms. "You're not working so late?"

"Cut back my hours today…. Conference is coming up, so I don't need the extra project on my plate. Enough is enough."

I touch his hair, smoothing out the wild spot on the back of his head, and Shigeru sighs and latches his fingers through my front belt loops, drawing me near. I staunch my instinctive stammers when he only rests his head against my stomach, his forehead burying into the front of my shirt as his arms wrap languidly about my waist.

I don't move or speak for a moment, unsure of what he's trying to do. But when Shigeru just stays like this, doesn't push for anything beyond this semi-hold he has me in, I reach down and slide my fingers into his hair. He sighs, his guard dropping low, and I bring my arms around his shoulders, wrapping his head in a loose hug.

How exhausted he must be, with all the issues he carries with him each day. Divorce, work, me. It's too much.

A light knock resounds from the hall behind and I nearly jump out of my skin. Shigeru gracelessly breaks away and staggers to feet, stumbling to be in front of me as we both face the sound.

Yukiko is in the middle of the hall, holding my old clothes in one arm as the other supports her against the wall. Her gaze flickers between us. "Hope I'm not be interrupting anything," she says, a benign, knowing look on her face.

Despite the darkness, I feel like she can see me blush. Shigeru grumbles, "Need something, Kiko?"

She drops her hands against her thighs. "I need a toothbrush. My mouth feels like the inside of a keg."

"In the bathroom, under the sink," I reply, struggling to sound normal. How long had she been standing there?

Yukiko stands there unmoving for a moment. Clicking her tongue, she spares a final glance to us. "Carry on, then," she says quietly. "Goodnight." She flicks on the bathroom light, casting light into the hall for a moment before she exits into its depths. I squint against the onslaught; what a way to break the mood.

Casting a furtive glance back at Shigeru, my pulse drumming strong in my chest, I head for my room. "Night, Shigeru."

Shigeru grunts in response, returning to sit in a lithe slump on his bed. His head droops back into one hand, his other hand idly waving adieu.

I pause one last time, then grab my door and shut it behind me. Safely inside my room, I hesitate again. _Did I make a mistake_...? No, Shigeru would be fine. We could talk tomorrow if we had to.

Besides, he might want to blame it on alcohol and not speak of it again, but I severely doubt it. There was something about him tonight, some sort of simple loneliness I had missed that had reached out and connected with my own... A chill ripples through me – maybe from the cold air as I change for bed, but again I doubt it. The heat in my stomach burns on like a furnace, the absence of his touch sorely noted, and I groan softly as I thump onto my bed.

Damn, I think as I pull up my covers. I'm not going to sleep at all tonight.

-0-0-0-0-

It's not a perfect chapter; there are many things about it I would like to fix, but it would take too long. I'm thinking it's better to post imperfections than to not post until I'm absolutely satisfied with it. I hope you agree with that sentiment. This chapter started out as 'too-many' thousand words in length, and thusly I decided '_Hey. I'm going to rewrite it, to try and make it shorter_.' Except by time the rewrite was over I added another 1,000 words to the count. I better quit while I'm ahead.

What's new, dears? Long time, no see. I have been absolutely awful for not responding to people on this site and I am so, so sorry. Life has been… strange. I'm sure most of you know what that's like from time to time.

Now, I don't say this to be mean or to scare readers, only to be honest. Deep breath, here it goes: I have strong reservations that this story will never be finished; my inspiration has completely vanished and I've lost the voice of this character, and my style has changed so dramatically that editing what I have written mostly makes me cringe, not smile. So I pose this **hypothetical** question to you: would you rather I only post finished chapters (like how updates usually go, even though inspiration may never strike and posts beyond Fourteen may never come), or would you prefer I post as much as I can and then post a summary of how the fic ends (so it's rough and point-form format, but you get a synopsis of the story)? I would love to hear your opinions in PMs or reviews.

Your kind, gorgeous, encouraging words have helped me through so much, and I thank you all for bearing with my disappointing absence of updates. It's wonderful to hear from those who are still on board with the 'ship, and I feel so bad for my passion having ebbed with this fic. Please forgive me, darlings, I hope I am wrong in this regard.

Hope all is well with you and yours,

Leika


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